Pete didn't do anything so childish as leaping into the air but he allowed himself to walk over and stroke the alluring flanks of the Hester. He felt wonderful. And around the hull of the rocket strode his mother.
"Why didn't you answer us?"
"Gosh—did you call me? Maybe my radio isn't working."
She dialed and spoke into it. His grandmother answered. "I've got him," said his mother, and dialed down.
She took him by the arm and shook him. "Come along!"
"That's scranny! I've got to get Murph cigarettes! He's going to take me up! Ain't that right, Murph?"
Murph had scrambled up, red and apologetic. "I'm sorry, lady—I didn't know you wanted him home. I'm really sorry."
"You idiot!" was all she said, flouncing by him with Pete held by the arm.
She shook Pete more and more angrily as they half ran toward home. Then suddenly he felt her trembling all over, and she broke into tears.
She held him to her fiercely and suffocatingly. "They're not going to get you. You're going to promise!"