"What, carry them?" said Leicester, in surprise.
"Well, no; not carry them,—not exactly carry them. You see I've got a little contraption of my own; a sort of cart or dray, and I'll just put all that duffle of yours into it, and it'll be up to the top before you're there yourselves."
"You don't drag it up the stairs!"
"No, I go up the back way,—a roundabout, winding path of my own. But don't you worry,—don't worry,—Hickox'll look after things. It'll be all right."
Although Mr. Hickox spoke in short staccato jerks, his remarks seemed to carry authority; and nodding his head in a manner peculiar to himself, he went off after his cart.
"He's all right, he is," declared Captain Kane; "but his old woman, she isn't so right. But never mind 'bout that. You'll see old Mrs. Hickox sooner or later and then you can size her up for yourself. Well, me and Mamie must be gettin' along. You all jest stay here till Hickox comes back, and he'll get you up the hill all right."
As Captain Kane went away the children could hear him chuckling to himself, and murmuring, "Goin' to live in the hotel! well, well!"
As Grandma Dorrance would want frequent rests by the way, Dorothy proposed that she should start on up the steps with Tessie, while the rest waited for Mr. Hickox.
That long specimen of humanity soon came briskly along, trundling a queer sort of push-cart, which it was quite evident was of home manufacture.
"I made it myself," he declared, pointing with pride to the ungainly vehicle. "I was surprised that I could do it," he added modestly; "Mrs. Hickox, she was surprised, too. But she generally is surprised. You don't know my wife, do you?"