"I've got three fine boarders for you," he whispered. "You can take 'em or leave 'em. I can take them anywhere and get a quarter apiece for them."
The woman opened the door a little wider and peered out at the three men. Their appearance seemed to satisfy her.
"Come in, comrades," she invited cordially. She had not meant to take boarders during this convention, but these men looked as though they could pay well. "I have fine rooms and good board."
Daggett stepped back to allow the strangers to go into the house.
"I'll be here at eight o'clock sharp to take you over the field, gentlemen," he promised.
There was a briskness about his speech and an alertness in his step, which, coupled with the woman's gratitude, kept her from telling her guests what a reprobate old Daggett was.
By some miracle of persuasion or threat, he secured a two-seated carriage and an ancient horse for the next day's sight-seeing. A great roar of laughter went up from the drivers of the long line of carriages before the Keystone House, as he drove by.
"Where you going to get your passengers, Daggett?"
"Daggett's been to the bone-yard for a horse."
"He ain't as old as your joke," called Daggett cheerfully.