“But you’ve brought them back,” at last Mrs. Pepper made herself say, “that was good of you, Jimmy.”
“I—I couldn’t keep ’em. You’ve been awful nice to Mother. Don’t tell her,” he brought himself up in sudden terror. “You won’t—oh, you won’t, Mrs. Pepper!” he begged, shaking all over.
“I won’t, Jimmy,” promised Mrs. Pepper. “Now see here, my boy, you’re almost a man—and I’m going to see you make a man that we all in Badgertown will be proud of.” She put her hand on his shoulder. “Now run home and hop into bed.”
CHAPTER XXV
JIMMY
THERE was a sound of somebody hurrying along the road back of her, who wasn’t accustomed to running, and who couldn’t walk fast. And then that somebody gasped, “Mrs. Pepper!”
Mrs. Pepper turned, “Why, Mary Pote!”
“Well,” said Mary Pote, bringing her short roly-poly figure to a standstill and putting her hand to her side, “I’m mortal glad you stopped, for I couldn’t have held out much more. I’ve been chasin’ you clear from Atkins’s store.” She brought this all out in gasps.
“Now that’s too bad,” exclaimed Mrs. Pepper sympathetically.
“You see— My! but I’m hot.” Mary Pote twitched off her leghorn hat, and began to fan herself furiously.
Mrs. Pepper looked about. “There’s a big stone,” she said, “let us sit down.”