"It's Adam—we have no other rooster—she has killed Adam."
"Now, don't fly off the handle. Martha said the butcher at the Glen had no meat this week and she had to have something and the hens were all laying and too poor."
"If she has killed Adam—" Faith began to run up the hill.
Mary shrugged her shoulders.
"She'll go crazy now. She was so fond of that Adam. He ought to have been in the pot long ago—he'll be as tough as sole leather. But I wouldn't like to be in Martha's shoes. Faith's just white with rage. Una, you'd better go after her and try to peacify her."
Mary had gone a few steps with the Blythe girls when Una suddenly turned and ran after her.
"Here's some gum for you, Mary," she said, with a little repentant catch in her voice, thrusting all her four knots into Mary's hands, "and I'm glad you have such a pretty muff."
"Why, thanks," said Mary, rather taken by surprise. To the Blythe girls, after Una had gone, she said, "Ain't she a queer little mite? But I've always said she had a good heart."
