“I could gather up my skirt,” Solita volunteered. “We could pick into that. It’s already all ruined so I don’t mind using it—it’s an old last year’s frock.”
“Mercy me, Solita! What would your mother say to that!” Sue exclaimed, aghast. “The very idea! No, we’ll have to find something else.”
“Do you suppose there’d be anything to hold them if we were to look around here?” questioned Solita. “Maybe we might find something—an old pail or cooking pan that has been thrown away.”
“There might be something inside the house,” Sue mused. “That’s very likely, but I don’t know if we could get in or not. We can try. I’m going to push the door. Do you suppose we can get in?” They had prowled around the house to what must have been the back door. But that back door wouldn’t give at all. It was tight.
The windows seemed shut fast, too. Sue said it made her feel like a burglar to try them, but since the house had been without a tenant for so long, of course it was not burglaring, she said.
After they had investigated many nooks and found nothing in the near-by shed, either, Solita suggested that they try the front door. “People always leave things behind when they move,” she declared. “I’m sure, if we could get in, we’d find a box or a pan or a basket. Even an old sack might answer—anything that is like a bag could be used.”
But when the two came to the front doorstone where the two big piles of berries lay, Solita sat down on one side and did not try the door.
“You open the door, Sue,” she said.
“No, you try it!”
“You’re afraid something will jump out at you!”