"Well," said Jimmie, as he finished his third cup of tea, "I know jus' what he needs, but you'll have ter help."
"I'll do anyting yer say, Jim," said Mrs. Cook.
"Say, 'Hope ter die,' and cross yer heart," said Jimmie.
"I'll do it, yer bet."
"All right," said Jimmie. "Der first thing I want yer ter do is ter go ter der Mission wid me ter-night."
"Me? I can't go, Jim; I ain't got no clothes ter go there; 'sides, it's Bill yer want ter help an' not me," she said.
"Yer promised me," said Jimmie, "an' yer mustn't ast no questions.
Yer get yer duds on an' I'll be back fer yer in five minutes."
Jimmie went over to Dave's barn, told him what was on and Dave
promised to get Bill into the house while they were gone.
Mrs. Cook took the children over to Hardy's to play while she made a "call." When Jimmie returned to the house for Mrs. Cook, she was all ready to go.
"Gee, where yer git der lid?" said Jimmie.
"Never you mind, sonny; that hat's some more of yer business." As Jimmie stood and looked her over, he almost wished he had not suggested the trip. Her hat was an old straw derby with two chicken feathers stuck in it. She had put an old wine-colored skirt over her blue wrapper.