“That’s all right. I’ll lend it to you.”
“Well, couldn’t you—couldn’t you lend me ten cents just as well?”
“No.” Chub shook his head. “I couldn’t trust you for so much. If you read any more you’ll have to go and get the money before Jennie comes.”
“Chub, I think you’re just horrid!” cried Harry, vexedly.
Chub only grinned. Harry looked hesitatingly at the book for a moment, and then closed it regretfully and placed it back in the window. Chub counted out three coppers and dropped them into her hand, and she placed them in the till. Then she made another entry on the paper bag as follows:
One third of “Little Goldie’s Vow” .03
After that they drew their chairs to the doorway and sat and looked out across the quiet, shaded street.
There wasn’t much of interest to look at—a cat washing its face on the side porch of the little white house opposite, a sparkle of blue where the river was visible between the branches of a tree and the corner of a house on the other street, a couple of pigeons parading about in the road. Twice an old man went by trundling a wheelbarrow, and twice automobiles flashed along northward on the river road.
“Wonder what time it is,” murmured Chub after a while, as he drew his watch out. “Hello, almost six! I wonder if one of us hadn’t better go back to the boat and tell the rest what’s happened to us. Maybe they’ll be worried.”