“All right,” says Hamilcar; “we’ll take the woods road. We can go right around him, and him never be the wiser. Giddap, there! Giddap! Earn your feed now, hosses. Dig in, for there’s a man tryin’ to git the best of two boys. We can’t have that. No, siree, Bob. Not any.”
“We won’t get there much ahead of him,” says I.
“Maybe ten minutes,” says Hamilcar. “Maybe fifteen.”
“Do you know Mr. Hoffer—the m-man that wants to sell his store?” Mark asked.
“Know him? To be sure. It’s Sunfield we’re a-goin’ to, Mark Tidd, and if there’s a man, woman, child, or critter in that town that don’t know Hamilcar Janes, then I hope apples sells for fifty cents a barrel.”
“We’ve got to get him away from his store,” says Mark. “There ain’t time to d-dicker with him there. Skip’d come bangin’ right into the middle of it. And if he was to see Plunk and me the whole plate of soup ’u’d be spilled.”
“Um!” says Hamilcar. “Calc’late we kin manage it. Leave it to Hamilcar Janes. He’s your man.” Then he started talking to himself. “Try to bust up a couple of boys, would he? Skip! I’ll make him skip. If he’s mistreated that hoss of mine he’ll skip and he’ll jump—and, b’jing! he’ll holler, too.”
It was a fine drive to Sunfield. The air was just a bit chilly, but it was a bright day and the woods were getting all colored up. It made me want to go nutting. I said so to Mark.
“If th-this deal goes through,” says he, “you and I will go n-nutting Wednesday. We’ll deserve a day off.”
We drove along at a good clip and got to Sunfield before noon. Hamilcar Janes drove us right to Mr. Hoffer’s five-and-ten-cent store and drew up his horses. I looked around where he said the other road came into town, and there, a quarter of a mile off, was a buggy coming along. There was one man in it, but it was too far off for me to see if it was Skip. Hamilcar took a look and banged his knee with his big fist.