“No sort of crab, unless there is a very generous, likable variety, but we don’t want to make extra trouble for her. Your mother said that the farm takes a lot of work and she has no end of things to do. Tomorrow she’s going to can some more—”
“And she’ll be glad to have us out of the way for a while.” Bob was quite positive, and although his aunt showed no desire to be rid of her two guests, she was perfectly willing to fix them up a picnic lunch and by the weight of the basket she handed her nephew the next morning, it promised to be a bountiful meal.
“You boys be careful and if it gets stormy you’d better come right home. I’d be real worried—”
“You must not do that. Didn’t we slide down on the lightning the other day?” Bob demanded.
“Yes, I know you did—”
“And didn’t you enjoy air traveling?”
“Yes, yes indeed I did, I wrote to your mother last night—”
“Then don’t waste any good worries about us,” Bob grinned. “We’ll be fine and come home to roost, like chickens.”
“Hurry up, Her Highness is raring to go,” Jim shouted. He was already in the cock-pit, and his pal raced to join him.
“All O.K.?”