She stopped.
“I never thought of that,” Jane said in a discouraged tone. “Oh, my land, what are we going to do with it?”
She let the bag sink to the ground and, straightening herself up, confronted her sisters. “We’ve simply got to get it off our hands before Martin gets back.”
“Oh, yes, yes!” pleaded Mary, affrighted. “Do something with it, Jane, no matter what. I never could stand it to have it carted back to the house and hidden there. ’Tain’t safe. Besides, in these days of German spies, ’twould be an awful thing to be found on us. S’pose the house was to be searched. We never could make the police believe how we came to have it. They might take us and shut us all up in prison—Martin and all.”
Her voice shook with terror.
“I guess they wouldn’t go arrestin’ us, Mary,” declared Jane soothingly. “Still, I 101 agree with you that it’s just as well for us to be clear of such a thing; let me think.”
While she stood meditating her two sisters watched her with perturbed faces.
“Ellen Webster’s cows don’t come up to this end of the pasture much, do they?” she remarked at last.
“No. Leastways I’ve never seen ’em here,” replied Mary.
“Then why don’t we sink the bag just across the wall?”