"Oh, yes," he said at length, as though endeavouring to grasp the meaning of so extraordinary an inquiry; "looks like Bob White's sister. What of it?"
"Oh, nothing," replied Henry Burns, "only you and I are going to buy it."
Harvey's grin expanded.
"Sure," he responded. "You'd look nice in it, Henry. Only you need the curls, too—"
"And give it to Bess Thornton," continued Henry Burns, unmindful of his comrade's remark.
Harvey whistled.
"Well, I'll be skinned if I don't think you're in earnest!" he exclaimed.
"I am," said Henry Burns. "It's eight dollars and eighty-seven cents—marked down—they always are, ain't they? Half of that's four dollars and something or other apiece. Come in with me?"
"Not much!" cried Harvey, turning red at the very thought of it. "I'll pay half, though, if you'll get somebody to buy it. It's worth more than that to me, to win that race. Well, if you don't beat all thinking up queer things. What put it into your head?"
"Why, she spoiled hers, showing us how to come through that sluice, didn't she?" said Henry Burns.