I want to see him. Anyway, we're going."
"But--but Mr. Peabody will be furious!" ventured Betty. "You know
what a scene he will make, Bob. Do you think we had better go?"
"You needn't," said Bob ungraciously. "I am."
"Of course, if you go, so will I," replied Betty, swallowing a sharp
retort. Bob was badgered enough without a contribution from her.
"Perhaps he will not miss us--we can get back in time for supper."
Immediately after dinner at noon Mr. Peabody sent Bob out to the hay
loft to pitch down hay for the balers who were expected to come and
set up their machine that night, ready for work the next day. He
could not have selected a meaner job, for the hay loft was stifling
in the heat of the midday sun which beat down on the roof of the
barn, and there were only two tiny windows to supply air. Mr. Peabody
himself was going up in the woods to mark trees for some needed fence
rails.
Bob departed with a significant backward glance at Betty, which sent
her flying upstairs to get into a clean frock. Mrs. Peabody
manifested so little interest in her activities that the girl
anticipated no difficulty in getting safely out of the house. As it
happened, her hostess made the way even easier.
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