CHAPTER VII
WATERMELON YIELDS
Eager to accomplish the plan he had suddenly conceived, the Watermelon turned and strolled back to Billy, while the boy gazed after such majesty in awed admiration.
"Who was it?" asked Billy, looking up as the Watermelon approached.
"The telegraph clerk," said the Watermelon calmly. "A telegram—and he brought it to me."
He made no motion to sit down and Billy rose.
"I suppose you have to go back," said she. She had to throw back her head to see into his face, for the top of her beflowered hat only reached to his shoulder.
"No," said the Watermelon, preparing the way for the future. "I could take a few days off, if I wanted to. Come on. I might as well try and save the remains of my car after the general has done his best to ruin it. I heard him go into the garage as we got out of sight. The general is more expensive than a motorcar."
"I like the general," said Billy, as they started slowly back.
"I suppose he has been like a grandfather to you," said the Watermelon, glancing down at the top of the big hat. "Don't you want me for a relative of some kind?"