“Trifling is the word,” responded Hoop gravely. “We have been merely amusing ourselves, Sandy.”
Sandy laughed with much sarcasm and Dutch emitted a word that sounded like “Yah!” and whatever it was expressed ridicule and defiance. How the second set came out Cal never learned, for at the supper table Mrs. Linn interposed.
“Miss Matilda said she had two baskets of apples for me if I’d send for them,” she announced. “And I was wondering whether two of you boys would go over for them after supper. I guess they aren’t very heavy.”
Apples and the Misses Curtis being just then dangerous topics, there was a prolonged hush about the table. The boys wondered if it would be safe to present their countenances at the Curtis front door. If the mysterious person in white had failed to recognize them last night might she not do so if she saw them again? They cast doubtful and inquiring glances at each other.
“Of course,” began Marm, “if you’d rather not—”
“Not at all,” protested Sandy gallantly. “We were just waiting modestly for you to say who you’d rather have, Marm. I’d love to go, only I’ve got a set of tennis to finish with Ned and Hoop and Dutch. But there’s Spud and The Fungus and Cal.”
“I’ll go, Marm,” said Spud.
“So will I,” said Cal.
“Bet you there won’t be many apples left by the time they get back,” said Hoop.
“Oh, I guess there’ll be plenty,” said Mrs. Linn. “So you can all have some when they come. I do think it’s kind of them to let me have so many.”