"
Pepsy's thoughts wandered to the six merry maidens whom Pee-Wee
had "handled" with such astounding skill. "Can't we have our
refreshment parlor any more?" she asked, with a note of homesickness
for the little place they had decorated with such high hope. "If
you'll wait, if you'll wait as much as--two weeks--lots and lots and
lots and lots of people will come--"
But Pee-Wee was not to be deterred by sentiment and false hope.
"Don't you want us to have two hundred and fifty dollars?" he asked
scornfully. "Don't you want us to buy those tents?" This was too much
for Pepsy. She grasped Pee-Wee's hand, following him reluctantly, as
she gave a wistful look back at their little wayside shelter. The
"stock" had not been set out for the day and the bare counter made
the place look forlorn and deserted as they went away.
"It's a blamed sight easier than running a refreshment parlor,"
Pee-Wee said; "it's just like picking the money up in the street.
All we have to do is to go to Mr. Sawyer's office and tell him and--"
"You have to go in first," said Pepsy.
Pee-Wee's enthusiasm was contagious and Pepsy was soon keyed up
to the new enterprise, even to the point of facing Mr. Sawyer. She
had cautiously resolved, however, to remain close to the door of his
office, so that she might effect a precipitate retreat at the first
mention of an orphan asylum.
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