“Where’d this come from?” he asked with a full mouth. “Marm bring it up? No wonder you sneaked home, you foxy rascal! Spud, he’s making love to Marm already.”
“Gee, but it’s good!” said Spud, munching hungrily. “You didn’t leave much, Cal, did you?”
“I’m sorry. I—I didn’t think.”
“Don’t worry,” laughed Ned. “If you’d been Spud you wouldn’t have left any.”
“Huh! I’d like to know who fed you on perfectly good marshmallows last night,” said Spud indignantly.
“Were those yours?” asked Ned innocently. “If I’d known that I’d eaten more of ’em.”
“More! You couldn’t. You ate about half of them as it was.”
“Come on,” said Ned, when the last crumb had disappeared. “Let’s go down on the porch. It’s too hot up here. What time is it, anyway?” He looked at the gold watch he carried at the end of a handsome fob. “Quarter past five. Is that all? My, but I’m hungry. I hoped it was near supper time. I wonder if we could get Marm to let us have a few more hunks of the heavy sweet, Spud?”
“We could try,” beamed Spud. “Come on.”