The red-headed boy on the front seat turned and smiled a trifle mischievously.
"I'm Tom Robbins, and this is my cousin, Will Dean, Miss Elizabeth Swift and Miss Peggy Farraday."
"How do you do?" Peggy said, gravely.
"How do you do?" Elizabeth echoed, demurely.
"Captain Swift is pretty good about picking up passengers on the road, isn't he?" asked the boy with the grin.
"When you see two boys limping along in front of you everywhere you go, something's got to be done about it," Grandfather said good humouredly, "anybody might almost think you boys follered me on purpose. Yesterday and day before and day before that, I come across them hoofing it along the road," he explained, "going the same direction I was, and scurse able to take another step."
"We didn't ask you for a ride to-day," the red-headed boy blushed. "We didn't even know you were on the road till we looked up and saw you about a minute before you caught up to us."
"What's those girls giggling about?" Grandfather inquired. "I can't have a minute's serious conversation with anybody without this giggle-giggle-giggle business going on."
"I guess I know what you are smiling about," the Dean boy lowered his voice, "but honest, don't misjudge us just on account of that post-office business. We kind of wanted a chance to square it, you know. Your grandfather thinks we're all right."
"It's been pretty dry weather for the gardens, hasn't it?" Tom Robbins was saying to Grandfather. "Have your vegetables suffered much?"