“It is downright ripping!” burst out Jack with explosive energy. Then he dropped into sudden silence, and said never a word while Pam was guiding the obstinate old horse as close to the door of the house as she could persuade it to go. She stole a glance at him once, and was so awed by the expression of his face that she turned her head quickly, for she guessed he would not want her to know how he was feeling.
The horse had its own ideas about how close to the door of the house it intended to draw the wagon, and being obstinate as a mule it planted its fore feet wide apart in an attitude worthy of FitzJames when he cried:
“Come one, come all! this rock shall fly
From its firm base as soon as I”.
“If you were my horse you would have to come, but seeing you belong to my neighbour it does not seem worth the trouble to make you,” said Pam, giving in gracefully, determined not to let a small difference of opinion between herself and the horse upset for her the joy of having Jack reach Ripple safe and sound.
Sophy burst out of the door, coming at a run to welcome the traveller, and chaffing Pam because she could not manage the stupid old horse.
“If it were merely stupid I could manage it fast enough,” replied Pam. “It is so crafty, and I lose my temper in trying to circumvent it.” She went round to the back of the wagon as she spoke, and started to haul out the trunks which Jack had brought with him.
“What a lot of baggage for a boy!” cried Sophy. “Why, Jack, you must be quite a dandy! How many dress suits have you brought with you?”
“Just you wait and see!” chuckled Jack, who had come out of his quiet fit, and was ready to answer chaff with chaff, to laugh and see the funny side of everything. “Of course I need football togs, and golfing duds, a rowing rig-out, and another set of nautical clothes for when I go out on my yacht. Then there are garments for sitting and for standing, there are things to sleep in, a swimming outfit, a set of go-to-meeting clothes, and—and a court dress, only I am afraid that won’t be of much use in this part of the world, so any reasonable offer will not be refused.”
“Don’t take any notice of him, Sophy,” said Pam, who was laughing at his glib description of his fictitious wardrobe. “The boxes are crammed with books, and things about the house that Mother thought he might as well bring. I guess he has not many more clothes than what he is wearing, and even those will be outgrown in a few months at the rate he is going on. Shall we have a feed before I take the wagon back, or shall I drive the horse and wagon back to Mrs. Buckle straight away?”