“Oh, I s’pose she can, only a fellow doesn’t expect it of her. How came you out here? I thought you’d be watching for refugees.”
“That’s what I’m hurrying for. Mamma sent me on an errand to Mrs. Black’s and I want to be back at the station in time to see the train come in. I wish we were going to have a refugee. Wasn’t the earthquake awful?”
“Yes. And the fire worse. Why can’t you have a refugee?”
“I guess ours’ll be a grown-up chap; but I wish he’d be a boy my size. How do you guess poor old San Francisco looks to-day?”
“Oh, Billy, don’t ask me. I can’t bear to think of it. But I almost forgot,--your mother said if I saw you to tell you to go by the store and get a loaf of bread. There’s the train!”
The whistle shrilled up the narrow valley, echoing back and forth from the steep green hills that bounded it.
“She’s at Vine Hill--miles away; we’ll beat her if we hurry.” His words were a bit breathless.
Off they bounded, side by side, through the fragrant spring evening. The red of the western sky touched to brighter rosiness their glowing cheeks, tinted Jean’s wind-blown hair with gold. As they neared the town she shot ahead in a last ambitious spurt, wheeled and faced him as he came up.
“Anything else you can do better than a girl?” she jeered, good-naturedly.
“Try a mile with this can and see where you come out in the race.”
“Why have you been away out in the country for milk?”
“This milk happens to be cream. I’ve been wondering what kind of a dessert will take all this.”
Jean hid a queer little smile that she could not repress.
“I’ll wrestle with you first chance,” he challenged; “but you wouldn’t have any show, your dress is so long. Why do you have ’em so?”
Jean’s face fell, and she didn’t look at Billy when she spoke. “My mother says I mustn’t wrestle any more.”
“Why, I wonder? She used to watch us at it and laugh.”
“Yes; but--oh, Billy, it’s awful to have to grow up and be proper. I begged mamma not to put my dresses down, but I’m past thirteen, and big as she is. And--”
“That’s no giant. She isn’t bigger’n a kid. Will she let you come to play? The Gang’s coming to-morrow.”
“Yes, I can come. Shall I bring Clarence, too?”
“Sure. All the kids. But Clarence especially,--he’s my son, you know.” Billy grinned.