"Who's Peggy?"
"That's McNutt, the man you hired to do things."
"Ah, yes; he surely ought to have sent some sort of a team to meet us,"
agreed Uncle John. "What's that group of houses yonder?"
"Thet's the Junction."
"Any hotel?"
"Sure."
"And a livery stable?"
"'Course there is."
"Then we'll get along," said Uncle John, assuming a sudden brisk manner.
"Just keep your eye on our baggage till we get back, my good fellow.
There are no people to interfere with it, but some bears or tigers might
come out of the hills and eat it up. Now, girls, away we go!"
Uncle John's nieces were not so greatly dismayed at this experience as
might have been expected. They had recently accompanied their erratic
relative on a European trip and had learned to be patient under
difficulties.
A quarter of a mile down the dusty road they came to the hotel, a
dismal, unclean looking place that smelled of stale beer. Uncle John
routed out the proprietor.
"Folks up?" he inquired.
"Long ago," said the man.
"Get us some boiled eggs, bread and butter and plenty of fresh
milk--right away," ordered Mr. Merrick. "The quicker it comes the more
I'll pay you. Bring a table out here on the porch and we'll eat in the
open air. Where's the livery stable--eh? Oh, I see. Now, step lively, my
man, and your fortune's made.
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