Led by the motor girls the procession wended its way back to the shed.
“Never mind, Andy,” said a boy called Skip, who really did seem to skip rather than walk, “we will see you ‘faired.’”
Andy rubbed his eyes more vigorously than before. Cora was in the shed, and Nellie hurried away with the dogs, promising to send Mrs. Ramsy down from the house. Meanwhile Cora had ample opportunity to get acquainted with her little band of strikers. They were very eager to talk, in fact all seemed anxious to talk at once. And their grievance against the woman “who ran the patch” seemed to have begun long before her present difficulty with Andy.
“She’s as mean as dirt to them two girls,” said one urchin, “and anybody kin see that them girls is all right.”
“They pick out here from the break of day until the moon is lit,” said another, “and after that they has to work in the house. There’s a couple of boarders there and the girls keeps the rooms slick.”
“Boarders?” asked Bess.
“Yep, and one old dame is a peach,” continued the boy, not coarsely but with eager enthusiasm.
“The one with the sparklers,” added another. “Hasn’t she got ’em though?” and he smacked his lips as if to relish the fact.
“There comes Ramsy,” whispered a third. “Whew! But she looks all het up!”
The woman did look that way. Her face was as red as the berries in the trays and her eyes were almost dancing out of their sockets.