“Dash down to the basement and get some canned goods from the supply shelf,” she instructed Louise briskly. “We ought to have jelly too, and a sample of Mrs. Weems’ strawberry preserves.”
“You do the dashing, if you don’t mind,” her chum demurred. “I prefer not to become too deeply involved in this affair.”
“Oh, Mrs. Weems won’t care—not a bit,” Penny returned as she started for the basement. “She’s the most charitable person in the world.”
In a minute she was back, her arms laden with heavy canned goods. Finding a market basket in the garage, the girls packed the food, wrapping perishables carefully in waxed paper.
“There! We can’t crowd another thing into the basket,” Penny declared at last.
“The ice-box is as bare as Mother Hubbard’s cupboard,” Louise rejoined. “What will the Parker family eat tomorrow?”
“Oh, Mrs. Weems can buy more. She’ll be a good sport about it, I know.”
With no misgivings, Penny carried the heavy basket to the garage and loaded it into the car. Discovering that the gasoline gauge registered low, she skillfully siphoned an extra two gallons from her father’s car, and then announced that she was ready to go.
“Don’t you ever patronize a filling station?” Louise inquired as her chum headed the automobile down the street.
“Oh, now and then,” Penny grinned. “After that cheque I wrote for the Breens’ rent, I’m feeling rather poor. Dad is much better able to buy gasoline than I, and he won’t begrudge me a couple of gallons.”