"Because he's been runnin' things in a way. I hope you get along with him."
"So do I——"
"Because if you don't, Shad will eat you at one gobble."
"Oh!" said Peter with a smile. "But perhaps you exaggerate. Don't you think I might take two—er—gobbles?"
Beth looked him over, and then smiled encouragingly.
"Maybe," she said, "but your hands don't look over-strong."
Peter looked at his right hand curiously. It was not as brown as hers, but the fingers were long and sinewy.
"They are, though. When you practice five hours a day on the piano, your hands will do almost anything you want them to."
A silence which Peter improved by shifting his suitcase. The weight of it had ceased to be amusing. And he was about to ask her how much further Black Rock was when there was a commotion down the road ahead of them, as a dark object emerged from around the bend and amid a whirl of dust an automobile appeared.
"It's the 'Lizzie'," exclaimed Beth unemotionally.