"
"He's a smarty and I hate him and three is bad luck," was all that
Pepsy could say. Then she broke down crying, "Miss Bellison hates him,
too," she sobbed, "and--and if people sit three in a seat in a wagon one
of them dies inside of a year. Now you go and spoil it all by having
three."
"You get three jaw breakers for a cent," Pee-Wee said. "Lots of times
I bought them three for a cent, and I bought peanut bars three for a
cent too, and I never died inside of a year, you can ask anybody."
"I don't care, I want to have it all alone with you," she sobbed.
"If we count Wiggle in that will make four," Pee-Wee said, "and none
of us will die. If the customers die that doesn't count, does it?"
Pepsy did not hear this rather ominous prediction about those who
would eat the waffles and the taffy. Her hate and her tears were her
only arguments, but they won the day.
"He's got a Ford," Pee-Wee said in scornful final plea, "and he can
put up money enough for us to buy lots of sundries and pretty soon we'll
have money enough to start other refreshment places and he can be the
one to ride around he'll be kind of field manager. It shows how much
girls know about business," he added disgustedly. "I bet you don't even
know what capital means.
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