"How about little Dick
Winters and his sister?"
"Fine!" cried Bob. "And I know a couple more I could pick up. Now
let's see! That makes--Gee, how many is it?"
"About five;" Joe figured for him. "That's enough, isn't it."
"Y-yes," said Bob doubtfully. "Only your friend, the old war veteran,
might not like to be squeezed in with a lot of kids, that way."
"I can fix that easily," said Jimmy, importantly. "What's the matter
with asking Aunty Bixby?"
"Who's she?" asked Bob, with interest.
"She's an old lady, a sort of spinster, I guess," Jimmy explained.
"She lives all by herself, and I guess she gets kind of lonesome
sometimes. She's kind of deaf, though," he added doubtfully.
"Deaf!" repeated Bob, with a frown. "How can she listen to radio
then, if she's deaf?"
"Oh, she has a trumpet," Jimmy hastened to explain. "She sticks it in
her ear like this," and he made a gesture with his hands at the same
time distorting his face into such a comical imitation of a deaf
person doing his best to listen that the other boys shouted with
laughter. "Oh, she can hear, all right," Jimmy finished confidently.
"Well, then, that makes six," said Bob briskly. "Now we've got to make
up our minds how we are going to get them to Doctor Dale's house."
"Maybe dad will let me take the big car," said Joe, his eyes shining
with the sheer daring of the thought.
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