The sight of the car caused Patty to go off into peals of laughter.
In front of the beautiful machine was an old farm wagon, and in front of that were four horses. On the seat of the wagon sat a nonchalant-looking farmer who seemed to take little interest in the proceedings.
“I wouldn’t ask what’s the matter for anything,” said Patty, looking at Roger, demurely, “but I suppose I am safe in assuming that you have those horses there merely because you think they look well.”
“That’s it,” said Roger. “Nothing adds to the good effect of a motor-car like having a few fine horses attached to it. Jump in, girls.”
The girls jumped in, and the caravan started. It was at a decidedly different rate of speed from the way they had travelled before. But Patty soon learned that Roger had found it impossible to fix the belt without going to a repair shop, and there was none nearer than Hartford. With some difficulty, and at considerable expense, he had persuaded the gruff old farmer to tow them over the intervening ten miles.
Patty would have supposed that this would greatly humiliate the proud and sensitive boy, but, to her surprise, Roger treated the affair as a good joke. He leaned back in his seat, apparently pleased with his enforced idleness, and chatted merrily as they slowly crawled along. Occasionally he would plead with the old farmer to urge his horses a trifle faster, and even hint at certain rewards if they should reach Hartford in a given time. But the grumpy old man was proof against coaxing or even bribing, and they jogged along, almost at a snail’s pace.
Perceiving that there was no way of improving the situation, Roger gave up trying, and turning partly around in his seat, proceeded to entertain the girls to the best of his ability.
Patty hadn’t known before what a jolly, good-natured boy Elise’s brother was, and she came to the conclusion that he had a good sense of proportion, to be able to take things so easily, and to keep his temper under such trying circumstances.
Only once did the surly old farmer address himself to his employers. Turning around to face the occupants of the motor-car he bawled out:
“Whar do ye wanter go in Hartford?”