"I have an errand over at the
station, and it won't take me a minute. I can come right back with
you. Go on, Fred; I'll sit in here with the trunk and you and Betty
needn't mind me."
Without waiting for an invitation, he swung himself up on top of the
trunk, and smiled pleasantly. He was saving his own horse a long
drive and getting a necessary errand done at the expense of a
neighbor, always a desirable consummation in the Peabody mind.
Fred opened his mouth and closed it wordlessly. His father would
have known what to do, but fifteen-year-old Fred did not know how to
deal with such a display of assurance. There seemed nothing to do but
to take this unwelcome passenger to Hagar's Corners and back.
Betty, for her part, could have cried with vexation. Gone was her
chance of asking Fred to take her to Glenside, and with it the hope
of getting to Washington. She knew that after the noon train at
Hagar's Corners there were no more till four o'clock. She wanted to
say good-by to the Guerins and to cash her uncle's check. No wonder
she was assailed by a strong desire to tumble the satisfied Mr.
Peabody out head over heels.
The drive was taken almost in silence, each of the three busy with
his own thoughts.
Pages:
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77