No, Betty, I guess the only
thing for me to do is to go to Washington."
"Well, if you don't go to bed, young man, I'll come down there and
help you along," an angry whisper came from the little window up
under the roof. "You've been babbling and babbling steady for half an
hour," grumbled the annoyed Ethan. "How do you expect me to get any
sleep with that racket going on? Come on up to bed before the old man
wakes up."
Thankful that it was Ethan instead of Mr. Peabody, Bob gathered up
his sardines and the remnants of the crackers and tiptoed up the
attic stairs to the room he shared with the hired man.
Betty hastily slipped into bed, and though Bob's news had excited
her, she was tired enough to fall asleep readily.
In the morning she watched her chance to speak to Bob alone, and
when she heard him grinding a sickle in the toolhouse ran out to tell
him something.
"You must let me lend you some money, Bob," she said earnestly. "I
know you haven't enough to go to Washington on. I've been saving,
thanks to your advice, and I have more than I need. Besides, I could
borrow from the Guerins or the Benders. You will take some, won't you?"
"I have enough, really I have," insisted Bob.
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