"You're warm." It was Myrtle speaking.
Stella looked at him with round blue eyes. "One more guess," she suggested.
"Chestnuts!" he guessed.
She nodded her head gaily. "What hair!" he thought. Then—"Where are they?"
"Here's one," laughed his new acquaintance, holding out a tiny hand.
Under her laughing encouragement he was finding his voice. "Stingy!" he said.
"Now isn't that mean," she exclaimed. "I gave him the only one I had. Don't you give him any of yours, Myrtle."
"I take it back," he pleaded. "I didn't know."
"I won't!" exclaimed Myrtle. "Here, Stella," and she held out the few nuts she had left, "take these, and don't you give him any!" She put them in Stella's eager hands.
He saw her meaning. It was an invitation to a contest. She wanted him to try to make her give him some. He fell in with her plan.