“If we come here to live it will require lots of fixing up,” said Rob.
“I don’t care what you think of it,” declared Larry, “but I jess feel like cutting off my big toe for coming up here into this dead man’s woods.”
When the forenoon had passed without bringing the deacon to see them, Rob grew anxious, and soon after dinner, accompanied by Chick and Ruddy, he started for Basinburg, hoping to meet their friend on the way.
Finally they came in sight of Basinburg without meeting any one. Rob was beginning to feel that there was something wrong about the non-appearance of Deacon Cornhill, and not having been to the latter’s house, he was obliged to inquire of the first person they met how to reach his place. This individual proved to be a tall, slab-sided youth, a little older than Rob, who eyed the other closely without replying to his question.
“When you get done looking at us,” said Rob, “I shall be glad to have you tell me where Deacon Cornhill lives.”
“Reckon ’ou’re some uv th’ tribe what came to town yesterday?” he ventured to question.
“I shall be pleased to have you answer my question,” said Rob.
“By gum! you’re cooners!” and he started on a run toward the village.
“I should say you’re the biggest cooner!” muttered Rob, not liking the conduct of the other. However, he kept on in the direction of the town, closely followed by Chick and Ruddy.
The store and post office was soon seen, standing in a little clump of buildings, and it was evident that the tow-headed youth had spread the news of their coming, for a crowd was beginning to gather in front of the place. It required but a glance from Rob to see that the looks of this party boded him anything but good.