"Pshaw! Your mother just said you might go, or words to that effect. Of course you'll go. If you didn't, I wouldn't go, and my father would be disappointed. He knows what these trips have done for me. Remember what a tender plant I was when we went out in the Rockies that time?"
"Ye—-yes," piped Stacy. "He was a pale lily of the valley. Now Walt's a regular daisy."
Young Perkins laughed good-naturedly. He was not easily irritated now, whereas, before beginning to live in the open, the least little annoyance would set his nerves on edge.
Mrs. Butler came in at this juncture, carrying a pitcher of lemonade and four glasses on a tray. The Pony Riders rose instinctively, standing while Mrs. Butler poured the lemonade.
"Oh, I forgot the cookies, didn't I?" she cried.
"Yes, we couldn't get along without the cookies," nodded Chunky.
"Now don't let your eyes get bigger'n your stomach," warned Ned.
"Remember, we are in polite society now."
"I hope you won't forget yourself either," retorted Stacy. "I'll stand beside you. If you start to make a break I'll tread on your toes and——-"
"Try it!" hissed Ned Rector in the fat boy's ear. The entrance of Mrs. Butler with a plate heaped with ginger cookies drove all other thoughts from the minds of the boys. "Mrs. Butler," began Ned, clearing his throat, "we—-we thank you; from the bottom of our hearts we thank you—-don't we, Stacy?"
"Well, I—-I guess so. I can tell better after I've tried the cookies.
I know the lemonade's all right."