Betty hurried over to her lamp, lit it, and set it on the window sill.
"He'll see it from the barn," she argued wisely, "and know that I am not asleep."
Her reasoning proved correct, for in a few minutes a well-known whistle sounded below her window. She blew out the light and leaned out.
"Oh, Betty!" Bob's tone was one of repressed excitement. "I've got something great to tell you."
"Have you had any supper?" demanded Betty, more concerned with that question than with any news. "I've something for you, if you're hungry."
"Hungry? Gee, I'm starved!" was the response. "I didn't dare stop to ask for a meal anywhere, because I knew I'd be late getting home as it was. The horse was never cut out for a saddle horse; I'm so stiff I don't believe I can move to-morrow. Where's the eats?"
"Here. I'll let it down in a moment," answered Betty, tying a string to the parcel. "Sorry it isn't more. Bob, but the larder's getting low again."
Bob untied the can and cracker box she lowered to him, and Betty pulled in the string to be preserved for future use.
"Thanks, awfully," said Bob. "You're a brick.
