Rosebud thought for a moment. “Whatever did I do with it?” she said, looking about her on the ground. Seth watched her a little anxiously.
“Who was it from?” he asked.
“Oh, just the old Agent. I don’t suppose it was important, but I know I put it somewhere.”
“Guess so.”
Seth lifted the dinner-box out of the buckboard. Suddenly Rosebud’s face cleared.
“That’s it, Seth. I put it in there. In with the dinner. Oh, and, Seth, I got Ma to let me bring my dinner out, so we can have a picnic, you and I, and General.” 129
Seth was bending over the box.
“Then I guess your dinner’s kind o’ spoiled too,” he said.
“Oh, that doesn’t matter so long as yours isn’t. You see it’s my own fault, and serves me right. If it’s very nasty we can give it all to General; so it won’t be wasted.”
“No, it won’t be wasted.”