"But if she answered me, I
didn't hear."
"I'm going a week from this Friday," announced Betty hastily. "That will
give me a week in Washington, and Mrs. Littell has asked me to stay with
them. I must write to Mrs. Bender to-night and tell her the news; she has
been so anxious for me to go to school again."
"Oh, gee, Betty, that reminds me--" Bob sat up with a jerk and began a
hasty search of his pockets. "When you spoke of Mrs. Bender that reminded
me of Laurel Grove, and Laurel Grove reminded me of Glenside, and that,
of course, made me think of the Guerins--Here 'tis!" and the boy
triumphantly fished out a small letter from an inside pocket of his coat
and tossed it into Betty's lap.
"It's from Norma Guerin!" Betty's expressive voice betrayed her
delight "Why, I haven't heard from her in perfect ages. I wonder what
she has to say."
"Open it and see," advised the practical Bob. "I meant to give you the
letter right away, and first the tart and then the blouse thing-a-bub
drove it out of my mind. I'll lead the horses and you can read as we
walk. Want me to take the plate back to Lee Chang?"
He dashed back to the bunk house, returned the tin, and rejoined Betty,
who was slowly slitting the envelope of her letter with a hairpin.
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