“Let us put the old man onto him,” Alex immediately suggested.
“I’ll talk the matter over with Father, and see what he says,” said Jack.
“But here comes the good old town,” he broke off with boyish enthusiasm. “Look, there is the creek, and the old swimming-hole at the bend. I’ll bet I’ve been in there a thousand times. And see that spire—that’s our church. Our house is just beyond.
“Come on, let’s be getting out.”
Catching up their suitcases, the boys passed down the aisle. As they halted at the door, they glanced back and saw that their neighbors of the next seat were following them. The two men were still talking; and coming to a stand behind the boys, the latter caught a further remark from Burke apparently referring to the Potter farm deal.
“... wrote asking him to town this evening,” he was saying. “I’ll give him a bit of a good time to-night, and put him up at one of the hotels—and, unless something unexpected happens, I’ll guarantee I’ll have the thing put through by noon to-morrow.”
“I hope you do,” responded his companion.
“And I hope you don’t!” exclaimed Jack beneath his breath. “And I may do something more than hope.”
Twenty minutes later, after a joyous welcome from his father and mother, and sister Kate, and the cordial reception extended Alex, Jack was seated at his “old corner” of the vine-hidden veranda, recounting the conversation they had overheard between the two real estate men. Before Mr. Orr had ventured an opinion in the matter, however, the subject was temporarily thrust aside by the appearance of a party of Kate’s girl friends, evidently much disturbed over something. When on running forward Kate’s voice was quickly added to the excited conversation, Jack followed to greet the girls, and learn the cause, and returned with the party to the veranda.