“I reckon I oughtn’t to have risked that wheel, after all,” said Mr. Caslon, doffing his hat to Mrs. Steele, but smiling broadly as he looked up from his examination of the wheel.
“Whoa, Charlie! Don’t get too near them heels, youngsters. Charlie an’ Ned are both old duffers like me; but you can’t fool around a horse’s legs without making him nervous.
“And don’t pull them reins. I don’t want ’em to start right now.... Yes, ma’am. I’ll haf ter lead the horses home, and that I don’t mind. But these young ones—— Now, let that whip lay right where it is, young man! That’s right.
“You see, ma’am,” he proceeded, quite calmly despite all that was going on about him, and addressing himself to Mrs. Steele, “it’s too long a walk for the little ones, and I couldn’t tote ’em all on the backs of the horses——
“Now, you two curly heads there—what do you call ’em?”
“The Terrible Twins!” quoth two or three of the other orphans, in chorus.
“I believe ye! I believe ye! They jest bile over, they do. Now, you two boys,” he added, addressing two youngsters, very much alike, about of a height, and both with short, light curly hair, “never mind tryin’ to unharness Charlie and Ned. I’ll do that.
“Ye see, ma’am, if you could take some of the little ones aboard——” he suggested to Mrs. Steele.
The coach was well filled, yet it was not crowded. The girls began to call to the little folks to get aboard even before Mrs. Steele could speak.
“There’s lots of room up here,” cried Ruth, leaning from her end of the seat and offering her hand. The twins ran at once to climb up and fought for “first lift” by Ruth.