So in quivering fear the girls stepped in and he gave Zee the bridle. Then he started the car—the treacherous, ungrateful thing!—it went off as smoothly and gently as a perfect lady. How tenderly Zee thought at that moment of the Jersey they did not choose. Down the road they went very slowly, then up a long winding trail among the trees by the creek to the Haunted House, an old-fashioned rambling building with vines and flowers running riot in every direction.
"Maybe he will not like it. He has a terrible disposition, you know."
"We shall charm him. He and the house are haunted, but fifty cents will enslave them both."
"Fifty cents would buy two gallons of gas," whispered Zee, shocked at the recklessness, but even her frankness did not extend to the point of protesting at the extravagance of a stranger—especially when she needed tea.
The Corduroy Crab greeted them as unconcernedly as though they came by invitation, and took the bridle from Zee's hand.
"Sir, we had a sad accident," said the Curious Cat in a respectful voice. "We are thirsty, tired, and—much wiser. May we have a cup of tea on the porch in a hurry?" He slipped a half-dollar into the man's willing hand as he spoke.
The Corduroy Crab seemed not at all surprised. "Of course," he said briefly, and led the horse away.
"Now there's a gentleman," said the Curious Cat appreciatively. "Took my money like a—preacher."
"What do you mean—like a preacher?" demanded Zee resentfully.
But the Curious Cat did not seem to hear, for he was piling soft cushions into wide porch chairs where the girls might sit in comfort.