Randy's Summer - Amy Brooks - Bog

"Randy! Randy! where are you?" came in shrill, high-pitched tones from the kitchen. The girl on the wooden seat just outside the door neither moved nor heeded, so engrossed in her book was she. "Ran-dee!" This time there was a rising inflection on the last syllable. Slowly the girl's forefinger followed along the line which she was reading. A quick step across the kitchen, and a tall, angular woman appeared in the doorway, wiping her hands on her blue-checked apron.