Amy arched her brows and looked curiously at her friend. “I don’t get your meaning at all, Jess,” she said.
“Why, we’ve talked enough about it, Amy. It is in his power—and in his father’s power—to do us the greatest favor.”
“Goodness me, Jess! It must be a million dollars you are talking about.”
“Nothing of the kind,” returned Jessie. “I should think you would see what I mean. We have talked enough about it. Think! If they would only ask Mr. Blair, their radio superintendent, to let us sing and recite on the Stratford program. Wouldn’t that be fine?”
“It certainly would be scrumptious,” Amy agreed. “I never! Why can’t we ask him the very next time we see Mark? Mr. Stratford, I mean.”
“Oh, I shouldn’t like to do that. We don’t know Mark’s father well enough.”
“How well have we got to know him to ask?” demanded Amy.
“We-ell, he might not like it. But if Mark says anything again about feeling that he has put us to trouble about the wires, I shall feel just like asking him.”
“Pooh!” exclaimed Amy. “I’ll not only feel like asking him, but I will do so. Why not? He’s only a boy like Darry. I’m not afraid of any boy.”