Sue had hoped for greater frankness. Her own opinion of her Aunt
Cynthia, while favorable, was unsettled. She thought of a thing in
connection with her aunt which had given her some concern. She had been
full of wonder as to its hidden potentialities.
In a moment Sue broached the subject by saying, "She's got a big mold on
her neck."
"With a long hair on it," Socky added. "Bet you wouldn't dast pull that
hair."
Sue squirmed a little. That single hair had, somehow, reminded her of
the string on a jumping-jack. She reflected a moment, "I put my finger
on it," said she, boastfully.
"That's nothing," Socky answered. "Uncle Silas let me feel the shot what
he got in his arm. Gee, it was kind o' funny." He squirmed a little and
thoughtfully felt his foot.
Sue recognized the superior attraction of the buried shot and held her
peace a moment. Both had begun to yawn.
"Wisht it was t'-morrow," said Sue.
"Why?"
"'Cause I'm going to see the beautiful lady."
"An' the crow, too," Socky whispered.
They were, indeed, to see her sooner than they knew--in dreamland.
Zeb now retired discreetly to the foot of the bed.
After a little silence Sue put her arms about her brother's neck and
pressed him close.
"Wisht I was in heaven," she said, drowsily, with a little cry of
complaint.
"Why?"
"So I could see my mother."
"She's way up a Trillion miles beyond where the hawks fly," said the
boy, as he gaped wearily.
Thereafter the room was silent, save for the muffled barking of Zeb in
his slumber. He, too, was dreaming, no doubt, of things far away.