“We shall be glad to, only you must tell us where to do it,” said Ted.
“Just go down to my oil stove. I left some water on it to heat. I’ll give you soap, a dishcloth, and towels;” and again Mrs. Hopkins began rummaging in the hamper, finally producing the required articles.
Picking up the dishes, the boys put them in a basket and started. Four or five young people were already busy at similar tasks, and as Ted and Phil joined them, they greeted them pleasantly.
Awkwardly and with much embarrassment the boys set about their work.
“Ouch!” cried Phil, snatching his hand from the saucepan of water into which he had put a cup.
“Here, let me show you. I guess you don’t know much about dish-washing,” laughed a pretty girl at the next stove.
“It seems that we don’t,” returned Phil, looking at his still smarting hand.
“First of all, put out the flame of your stove, then get some cold water from the tank and cool that in the saucepan,” directed their assistant.
The fact that they were fellow passengers broke down all barriers of reserve, and by the time the dishes had been washed, the young people were talking of their homes and their hopes.
“I’m so glad you are going to Washington,” said the girl who had come to the young homesteaders’ rescue. “I was afraid Tom and I would be the only young people on the car, but now you’re going through, we can have a jolly time.”