CHAPTER XVIII
A VITAL POINT
It was the day but one after our exciting trip to the Water Storage Reservoir when, as we were busy about our usual work, our attention was attracted by a loud voice at the gate, shouting: “Whoa! Whoa, sir! Whoa, now, I tell you!” and I was guilty of a disrespectful laugh.
“There comes Mr. Wilson, Jessie. You can always tell when he is coming, for he begins shouting to his horses to stop as soon as he sights a point where he wishes them to halt. Evidently he is intending to call on us.”
“Good morning, young folks, good morning!” was the hearty salutation, a moment after, as our neighbor himself stood on the threshold.
“No, I can’t stop,” he declared, as usual, when Jessie offered him a chair. “If I set,” he continued, “I shall stay right on, like a big clam that’s got fixed to his liking, prob’ly, and I’ve got a heap to do to-day.”
Nevertheless, he dropped easily into the seat as he continued:
“Day after to-morrow’s the day, I s’pose?”
“Yes,” Jessie responded, dejectedly, “it is.”
“Hu—m—wal’, wal’, you don’t seem real animated about it, if you’ll excuse my saying so. I swan, I ’lowed you all would be right pleased to think the long waiting’s so nearly over.”