“You positively are not, Brother Jack,” Cora declared. “You boys think our place is an elastic delicatessen. Why, we never know whether we are going to have enough for another meal or not, and we can’t go to the point again to-day.”
“All right, Little Sister. If you have the heart to eat good string beans from old Henry’s garden, and know that your brother is starving for a single spoonful, just go ahead. They will rest heavy on your heart, though. I warn you.”
“You may help!” offered Lottie. “Just take that paper bag and scoop up the ends. Bess spilled them.”
“I absolutely refuse,” replied Jack, haughtily, “to be a scraper-up for such mean people. No, sir! I have just been manicured,” and he gazed lovingly at his much-neglected hands.
“It does seem as if all we do is to get ready to eat and then eat,” said Belle with a sigh. “I would never keep house for myself if I starved. At least, I would manage on fewer meals. We have only been to the point since breakfast and now it is time to eat again.”
Cora had gone in with Freda and Mrs. Lewis and very soon afterward luncheon was announced—the beans were laid over for the evening meal. Jack stayed, of course, and wondered (so he said) why the other fellows did not come in search of him.
An hour or two later Mrs. Lewis hurried off to the little station, after promising Freda that she would be most careful of the dark road known as the “Cut.”
“For, Mother dear,” warned Freda, “I do believe those land sharks would do almost anything to scare the information out of us. They have threatened to have it at any cost, you know.”
“Oh! I am surprised at you being so nervous, dear,” replied the mother, kissing Freda reassuringly. “I never felt less nervous. In fact, I think now things will soon be righted. Good-bye, dear. And have a good time with your friends.”
Freda watched the little woman step lightly away over the white path. Then, with a sigh, she turned back to the bungalow.