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This was a state of preparedness that amused Agnes and Neale very much. Aunt Sarah evidently expected the worst. She even carried in her pocket the peppermint lozenges which she always took to church with her and nibbled at in sermon time.
Indeed, Aunt Sarah, who was a pessimist at the best of times, approached the ordeal in such a way that Ruth really began to pity her.
I dont care! shed spoil all our fun, protested Agnes, exasperated.
But the older sister said: Perhaps she cant help it after all, Aggie. And if she really is scared, I am sorry.
At that Agnes whispered sharply: Look at her face!
Neale was running the car carefully, but at a good speed, on one of the pleasantest and smoothest highways around Milton. The air was invigorating, the outlook was beautiful, and the car ran like a charm.
In a moment of forgetfulness, perhaps, Aunt Sarahs grim countenance had changed. It did actually seem as though there was a smile hovering about her lips. To the two girls who rode with her in the tonneau it seemed as though it must be impossible for anybody not to enjoy the ride.
Isnt it splendid, Aunt Sarah? queried Ruth, with shining eyes, leaning toward the old woman.
Instantly Aunt Sarahs face became as usual forbidding. She shook her head with determination.
No, Niece Ruth, it is nothing of the kind, she declared. I do not like it at all. I knew I shouldnt. I wish to return.
Well! Agnes had gasped in her sisters ear. Dont try to tell me! If Aunt Sarah was not almost laughing then, why, then her face slipped!
CHAPTER VII WHAT SAMMY DID
They knew many people Agnes said: A whole raft of people, but Ruth did not approve of such language and accused her fly-away sister of learning it from Neale ONeil.
Poor Neale! Must he be blamed for all my sins? asked Agnes, with a wry smile. She was mending a tear in a very good skirt and she did not like to sew.
Oh, I will not accuse him of being the cause of that , Aggie, said Ruth, pointing to the tear.
Youre wrong, retorted her sister with a sudden elfish smile. If he had not chased me, to get those cherries I stole from him, I wouldnt have caught my skirt on the nail and tored it, as Dot would say.
Tomboy! declared Ruth, rather scornfully.
I dont care, Agnes said, biting off her thread. I hope Ill never be starched and stiff.
But you are getting older, went on Ruth.
Not too decrepit to run yet, retorted Agnes, pertly.
Ruth laughed at that, and pinched her sisters rosy cheek. Nevertheless, she said, that is one of the skirts you will be obliged to wear on our tour.
Oh! Our tour! cried Agnes, ecstatically, clasping her hands. Ouch!
What is the matter? demanded Ruth, startled by her sisters
squeal.
Stuck my finger with this horrid needle, mumbled Agnes, sucking the pricked digit.
She went back to her sewing as Ruth went out of the room. In came Neale in cap, goggles, and leggings.
Oh, Neale! Have you got the car out?
Why, Aggie! cried the boy, without replying to her question, and eyeing the work in her lap askance. I am surprised! Youre just like Satan as we had it in our lesson last Sunday arent you?
Well! I like your impudence. In what way, please? demanded Agnes.
Why, youre sewing tears, arent you? chuckled Neale. And the Bible says the Evil One sowed tares.
Oh, dont! Its too great a shock. But, are you going out with the car?
Been out, said the boy. I took Mr. Howbridge over to Brenton Woods to catch the train for the West on the Q. V. We wont see him again until were back from our tour.
Oh, yes! Our tour! repeated Agnes; but this time she did not clasp her hands in ecstasy. She looked at her pricked finger ruefully instead.
And coming back, went on Neale, I happened to run across Mr. Maynard.
Oh, yes! cried Agnes again, but in an entirely different tone.
Hed been fishing. You see, he doesnt have much to do now that hes out of the surveyors office. Thats why he he gets into trouble so much, I suppose. That and worrying about the death of his wife and baby. I brought him home in the car.
Did you ask him about that Joe fellow?
Saleratus Joe?
Yes. If thats what you are bound to call him, Agnes said.
I did. Mr. Maynard doesnt know the fellow personally. He didnt seem to remember much about that day he met Dot. He remembers her, though, Neale said, thoughtfully. Asked about her in a shamefaced sort of way.
I should think he would be ashamed.
He is to be pitied, said the boy, soberly.
Oh, yes. I suppose so. All such men are. But for little Dot to get mixed up with a drunken man
It didnt hurt her, said Neale, stoutly. And maybe it has helped him.
Agnes took a minute to digest this; and she made no further comment. But she asked:
How about that Joe? Doesnt Mr. Maynard know anything about him?
He says not. Suppose we tell Mrs. Heard, and shell tell Mr. Collinger. Joe Dawson has sometimes worked for Jim Brady, the big politician. Mr. Collinger must know if Brady is one of the men who have been trying to get those maps and the papers away from him.