“I’ve got to carry Uncle Mose his dollar’s worth of smoking tobacco, and write that letter for him.”
“Meeting that fellow from the Pacific does sort of put you under obligations.”
“Guess I’d better get back to my dishes,” said Kitty, rising. “Judy will be calling me a shirker if I don’t. She doesn’t enjoy this dish-washing part of the job any more than I do.”
A few minutes later she was wielding the dish mop when Mrs. Evans came in to say, “Kitty, someone wants you on the phone.”
She hurriedly crossed the hall to the near-by office, wondering if it was her father. She received quite a shock when she heard Jane’s voice: “Miss Kit, reckon you bettah come home.”
“Why? What’s wrong, Jane?”
“It’s Billy. Reckon he sick. He skin feel hot as fire to mah han’, and he cough like he gwine choke to deaf.”
“I’ll be right home!” stated Kitty, and put down the phone with a bang.