She wanted some one who could take her out of
herself--some one to whom she could talk without betraying herself.
Not far from the Mill a number of children were playing in the dusty
road.
Helen did not notice the youngsters, but Tom, being a careful driver,
slowed down, even though they were already scurrying aside for the
automobile to pass. Suddenly she was startled by a shrill yell.
"Hello, there! Hello, Miss!"
Bobby Whaley, in his frantic efforts to attract her attention, was
jumping up and down, waving his cap and screeching like a wild boy,
while his companions looked on in wide-eyed wonder, half in awe at his
daring, half in fear of the possible consequence.
To the everlasting honor and glory of Sam Whaley's son, the automobile
stopped. The lady, looking back, called, "Hello, Bobby!" and waited
expectantly for him to approach.
With a look of haughty triumph at Skinny and Chuck, the lad swaggered
forward, a grin of overpowering delight at his achievement on his
dirty, freckled countenance.
"I am so glad you called to me," Helen said, when he was close. "I was
just wishing for some one to go with me for a ride in the country.
Would you like to come?"
"Gee," returned the urchin, "I'll say I would."
"Do you think your mother would be willing for you to go?"
"Lord, yes--ma, she ain't a-carin' where we kids are jest so's we ain't
under her feet when she's a-workin'.
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