"All right young man," said Peter. "Fix us over! We are ready for anything
that will benefit Ma. She's the pinwheel of this place. Now you scoot! I
can see her coming."
"It's our secret then?" asked Mickey.
"Yes, it's our secret!" answered Peter gravely.
Mickey took one long look at Peaches and went running to the milk wagon.
Junior offered to let him drive, so for the first time he took the lines
and guided a horse. He was a happy boy as he spun on his heel waiting a
few minutes for the trolley. He sat in the car with no paper in which to
search for headlines, no anxiety as to whether he could dispose of enough
to keep Peaches from hunger that night, sure of her safety and comfort.
The future, coloured by what Mrs. Harding had said to him, took on such a
rosy glow it almost hurt his mental eyes. He revelled in greater freedom
from care than he ever had known. He sat straighter, and curiously watched
the people in the car. When they entered the city and the car swung down
his street near the business centre, Mickey stepped off and hiding himself
watched for the passing of the boy, on his old route.
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