Chapter Forty
During lunch, the Drig children had a table to themselves. Amidst the tinkling of spoons, murmur of gossip and squeaking of chairs that charged the air of the dining hall, the siblings slurped their strawberries and cream and chatted about the main topic of conversation over that holiday.
“He’s a rat,” Charlie opined.
“He’s just doing his job,” Betsy, adding another couple of words to her list, argued.
“He’s a clown,” judged Doobie.
Eric just made a silly noise.
Bo giggled.
“He’s a rat.” Charlie said it with an air of finality.
“He’s all that, and more,” Danny harrumphed. “And I vow revenge on him for what he did to Father.”
Betsy shrugged. “I like him. He asks funny questions. He’s funny.”