“She can tote a bag of meal,” proudly declared her father.
“And you let her?” flared Ted, savagely, for he was angry at his brother for his words and at Peleg for allowing the poor little cripple to perform such work.
“Why not? I’m sixty-five and she’s twenty. Ain’t it better for her to tote meal than an old man like me?”
Ted opened his mouth to give vent to a sharp retort, when Jennie, with a smile at her champion, averted further unpleasantness by asking:
“Will any of the men be down from camp tonight, Pap?”
“They’d better not. There ain’t a dollar in the whole outfit, and I don’t charge nothin’ more, I told ’em so last night.”
“Won’t your refusing credit drive them to Bradley?”
“Not while the company they are working for owns this store. The boss fired five of them the other day for spending real money in Bradley.”
“Well, I hope there won’t any come tonight,” declared the girl, adding, as the boys followed her inside the store, “They call me ‘Spider’ and make fun of me awful.”
“They won’t while we are here,” snapped Phil.