“Lots an’ lots.”
“That’s to-morrow,” said Sunny, taking his cue wonderingly.
“Poppa ain’t back neither,” protested Vada.
“He’s gone visitin’,” said Sunny. “Maybe he’ll be late. Guess he’s havin’ a hand at poker down at the store.”
Sunny was getting uncomfortably hot. Lies came easily enough to him in the ordinary way, but with these poor children it was somehow different.
“Poppa don’t play poker,” defended Vada. “On’y wicked men does.”
“’Ess,” agreed Jamie.
“That’s so.” Sunny felt himself on dangerous ground.
He smoked on thoughtfully for some moments. He felt that a desperate move was required, and considered how best to make it. Finally he resolved that he must assert his authority. So, setting Vada on the ground, he stood up.
“Bed,” he said, with a great assumption of finality.