"No one could go off with the car," argued Henrietta.
"And we can get them to send a horse," added Bartlett. "I am starving."
"I feel like the car," said Billy. "I have no gasolene."
"I can not leave the car," reiterated the general, and Henrietta realized that that settled it as far as the general was concerned, and that it would take her greatest tact to unsettle it.
"I will go and get a farmer and a horse," said the Watermelon, unexpectedly siding with the general. "We would have to be here anyway, to see that they towed it in right."
"A horse would do," said Billy gravely. "We don't need the farmer."
"I have hopes of Billy sometimes," said Bartlett, regarding his daughter quizzically. "I sometimes even think that she may grasp the difference between sunshine and rain and realize it's best to keep out of the latter."
Billy looked hurt. "Father doesn't like me any more," said she, adding shrewdly, "He thinks I'm getting rather too old for him, anyway."
Bartlett blushed, Henrietta laughed and the general roared.
"You grown-up daughters are so hard to explain," said he. "Not once do you offer to be a sister to us."