Eve sat down. “I just happened to think,” she said carelessly, “that it’s about time for Michael to come along.”
“Huh!” I retorted. “I’ll bet you’ve been planning to wait for him all the afternoon. I think you’re a shameless hussy!”
Hattie May giggled. “I don’t see why we shouldn’t wait for him,” she said. “If he has his wagon he’ll give us a lift.”
“Yes, and if he’s on his bicycle, he’ll wave his hand and go sailing by. And we’ll miss the bus!”
We were still arguing when the faint rattle of a wagon fell on our ears and a moment later, Michael’s blue shirt and brown head appeared above the brow of the hill. “Hello,” he called as he drew alongside of us, “waiting for some one?”
“Just resting,” Eve told him with a twinkle.
“Don’t want a lift then?” he grinned.
“Well perhaps we might—what d’you think, girls?”
But Hattie May was already in the front seat and Eve and I climbed into the rear as we had done that first day when we had fairly to beg for a ride.
“Anything new in the mystery line?” Michael inquired with a slap of the reins.