CHAPTER 3 CHICKEN DINNER

The discovery that Rhoda’s brother had stolen food was disconcerting to Penny. Saying good-bye to Mrs. Breen, she prepared to drive away from the trailer camp.

“Oh, you can’t go so soon,” the woman protested. “You must stay for dinner. We’re having chicken and there’s plenty for everybody!”

“Really we can’t remain,” Penny declined. “Louise and I both are expected at home.”

“You’re just afraid you’ll put me to a little trouble,” Mrs. Breen laughed, swinging open the car door and tugging at Penny’s hand. “You have to stay.”

Taking a cue from their mother, the three young children surrounded the girls, fairly forcing them toward the trailer. Ted immediately started in the opposite direction.

“You come back here, Ted Wiegand!” Mrs. Breen called in a loud voice.

“I don’t want any dinner, Mom.”

“I know better,” Mrs. Breen contradicted cheerfully. “You’re just bashful because we’re having two pretty girls visit us. You stay and eat your victuals like you always do, or I’ll box your ears.”

“Okay,” Ted agreed, glancing at Rhoda again. “It’s no use arguing with you, Mom.”

Neither Penny nor Louise wished to remain for dinner, yet they knew of no way to avoid it without offending Mrs. Breen. Briskly the woman herded them inside the trailer.

“It’s nice, isn’t it?” she asked proudly. “We have a little refrigerator and a good stove and a sink. We’re a bit crowded, but that only makes it more jolly.”

A man in shirt sleeves lay on one of the day beds, reading a newspaper.

“Meet my husband,” Mrs. Breen said as an afterthought. “Get up, Pop!” she ordered. “Don’t you have any manners?”

The man amiably swung his feet to the floor, grinning at Penny and Louise.

“I ain’t been very well lately,” he said, as if feeling that the situation required an explanation. “The Doc tells me to take it easy.”

“That was twenty years ago,” Mrs. Breen contributed, an edge to her voice. “Pop’s been resting ever since. But we get along.”

Rhoda and Ted, who had followed the others into the trailer, were acutely embarrassed by the remark. Penny hastily changed the subject to a less personal one by pretending to show an interest in a book which lay on the table.

“Oh, that belongs to Rhoda,” Mrs. Breen responded carelessly. “She brought it from the library. Ted and Rhoda always have their noses in a book. They’re my adopted children, you know.”

“Mr. and Mrs. Breen have been very kind to us,” Rhoda said quietly.

“Stuff and nonsense!” Mrs. Breen retorted. “You’ve more than earned your keep. Well, if you’ll excuse me now, I’ll dish up dinner.”

Penny and Louise wondered how so many persons could be fed in such a small space, especially as the dinette table accommodated only six. Mrs. Breen solved the problem by giving each of the three small children a plate of food and sending them outdoors.

“Now we can eat in peace,” she remarked, squeezing her ample body beneath the edge of the low, anchored table. “It’s a little crowded, but we can all get in here.”

“I’ll take my plate outside,” Ted offered.

“No, you stay right here,” Mrs. Breen reproved. “I never did see such a bashful boy! Isn’t he the limit?”

Having arranged everything to her satisfaction, she began to dish up generous helpings of chicken and potato. The food had an appetizing odor and looked well cooked, but save for a pot of tea, there was nothing else.

“We’re having quite a banquet tonight,” Pop Breen remarked appreciatively. “I’ll take a drumstick, Ma, if there ain’t no one else wantin’ it.”

“You’ll take what you get,” his wife retorted, slapping the drumstick onto Penny’s plate.

Louise and Penny made a pretense of eating, finding the food much better than they had expected. Neither Ted nor Rhoda seemed hungry, and Mrs. Breen immediately called attention to their lack of appetite.

“Why, Ted! What’s the matter you’re not eating? Are you sick?”

The boy shook his head and got to his feet.

“I’m not hungry, Mom,” he mumbled. “Excuse me, please. I have a date with a fellow at Riverview, and I have to hurry.”

Before Mrs. Breen could detain him, he left the trailer.

“I can’t understand that boy any more,” she observed with a sad shake of her head. “He hasn’t been himself lately.”

The younger members of the Breen family quite made up for Ted and Rhoda’s lack of appetite. Time and again they came to the table to have their plates refilled, until all that remained of the chicken was a few bones.

Penny and Louise felt quite certain that Rhoda realized what her brother had done and was deeply humiliated by his thievery. To spare the girl further embarrassment, they declared that they must leave. However, as they were presenting their excuses, there was a loud rap on the door of the trailer. Peering from the curtained window, Mrs. Breen immediately lost her jovial manner.

“He’s here again,” she whispered. “What are we going to tell him, Pop?”

“Just give him the old stall,” her husband suggested, undisturbed.

Reluctantly, Mrs. Breen went to open the door. Without waiting for an invitation, a well-dressed man of middle age entered the trailer. Penny immediately recognized him as Jay Franklin, who owned the Dorset Tourist Camp. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Breen,” he began, his manner falsely cheerful. “I suppose you know why I am here again?”

“About the rent?”

“Precisely.” Mr. Franklin consulted a small booklet. “You are behind one full month in your payments, as of course you must be aware. The amount totals eight dollars.”

“Pop, pay the gentleman,” Mrs. Breen commanded.

“Well, now, I ain’t got that much on me,” her husband rejoined, responding to his cue. “If you’ll drop around in a day or two, Mr. Franklin—”

“You’ve been stalling for weeks! Either pay or your electric power will be cut off!”

“Oh, Mr. Franklin,” pleaded Mrs. Breen, “you can’t do that to us. Why, with our refrigerator on the blink, the milk will sour. And I got three little children.”

The man regarded her with cold dislike.

“I am not interested in your personal problems, Mrs. Breen,” he said, delivering his ultimatum. “Either settle your bill in full by tomorrow morning, or move on!”