her relatives, and in Poketown itself.
He expected Janice to _do something_.
CHAPTER X
BEGINNING WITH A BEDSTEAD
Janice got up and took her usual before-breakfast run the next morning.
The Days remained the last family to rise in the neighborhood. The smoke
from the broken kitchen chimney crawled heavenward long after the fires
in other kitchen-stoves had burned down to hot coals.
So when the girl got back to the house, Aunt 'Mira had scarcely begun
getting the meal. Janice rummaged about in the tool-shed for some
minutes before she went upstairs to her room again. Marty crawled down,
yawning, and started for the usual morning pail of water from the
neighbor's well. Mr. Day was smoking on the bench outside of the kitchen
door. The pork began to hiss in the pan.
Suddenly, from upstairs, came a noisy pounding. Nail after nail was
being driven with confidence and dispatch.
"For the land's sake!" gasped Aunt 'Mira, looking up from the stove, a
strip of pork hanging from her up-raised fork.
Uncle Jason took his pipe from his lips and screwed his neck around so
as to look in at the door.
"What d'you reckon that gal's up to?" he demanded.
Marty came back from the Dickerson's at almost a lope. "What in
'tarnation is Janice doin' up in her room?" he queried, slopping the
water as he put the pail hurriedly upon the shelf.
"I haven't the least idea what it can be," said Mrs. Day, almost aghast.
"By jinks!" exclaimed the slangy boy. "I wanter see. By jinks! she
socked that nail home--she did!"
The whole house rang with the vigor of Janice's blows. Marty started up
the stairs in a hurry, and Mr. Day followed him. Mrs. Day came to the
foot of the stairs with the piece of pork still dangling from her fork.
Marty reached his cousin's door and banged it open without as much as
saying "By your leave."
"Hullo! What you doin'?" demanded the boy.
"Can't you _see_?" returned Janice, coolly. "I got sick of being rocked
to sleep every night on that old soap-box. I'll wager, Marty, that this
leg will stay put when I get through with it."
"Wal! of all things!" grunted Mr. Day, with his head poked in at the
open door.
"What's Janice doing?" demanded his wife, too heavy to mount the stairs
easily.
Uncle Jason turned about and descended the flight without replying to
his wife; but at her reiterated cry Marty explained.
"Ain't that gal a good 'un?" said the boy. "She's gone and put on the
old le
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