“I suppose that was because I took the sheet off. I had a dark dress on.” She smiled reminiscently. “It was lots and lots of fun, Cal.”
“Maybe it was for you,” he grumbled. “We didn’t think it was very funny. We thought it was a ghost for sure. I cal’late the fellows will be glad to find out what it really was. Spud said last night he was pretty sure you knew something about it.”
“Was he the boy who came with you for the apples?” Cal nodded. “Do you think they’ll be very—very angry with me?” she asked. “It was just a joke, you know.”
“No, I cal’late not,” answered Cal. Molly gave a little shriek of triumph.
“Now I know why they call you Cal!” she exclaimed. “It’s because you’re always saying ‘cal’late.’”
Cal reddened. “That’s why,” he confessed. “They make a lot of fun of me. I don’t see why cal’late ain’t just as good a word as—as any other.”
“I suppose it hasn’t the sanction of usage,” replied Molly glibly. Cal blinked.
“I cal’late—I mean I guess that’s it,” he murmured. Molly laughed.
“You said it again, you know.”
“Yes,” answered Cal, “I’m trying to get out of it, but I keep forgetting.” There was a moment’s pause, and then, “Mrs. Linn missed her pillow-case this morning,” he announced carelessly.