Then suddenly the Scout Master took Jamie’s hand and looked up at him.
“Say, what’s the matter with Mrs. Cameron? What makes her cry so much, and what’s the use of her lookin’ like a funeral without anybody dead, and why don't Lolly come home?”
“Now, look here,” said Jamie, “you’re asking me questions I can’t answer. In the first place, I didn’t know that Margaret Cameron was crying. I didn’t suppose anything could happen that would wring tears from a woman so self-contained as she is. And in the next place, what could I know about Lolly?”
“Well,” said the Scout Master, “she is crying a lot these days ’cause she’s right at the end of the car line where I get off with the Scouts to play brigand in the canyon, and robbers’ cave in the mountains, and sand fights on the beach, and to go bathing. She’s right where I see her every time I come past, and nearly every time I see her lately she’s wiping her eyes. It might be about the Bee Master, but there ain’t any use for her to spill the brine when he might get well and he might come home. If she knew he wouldn’t ever, I could understand it. I reckon it’s about Lolly because she don’t seem to come home and, of course, when she isn’t at home, Mrs. Cameron doesn’t know whether she’s sick or well, and she ain’t goin’ to feel comfortable as long as she doesn’t know.”
The Scout Master paused in intent thought a minute and then continued: “I reckon that’s kind of a silly thing to say. Lolly’s teaching school and, of course, when she’s
