They were all glad; and such a supper of ham and eggs as they ate! The accommodations the blacksmith’s wife put at the party’s disposal were ample too.
“Just the same,” yawned Neale, before retiring, “this has sure been an empty day. There hasn’t been much doing.”
“Well, what do you expect to happen in these perfectly civilized places?” responded Agnes.
“And we have surely had enough excitement to last us for a while—the children getting lost, and all,” Ruth said.
“And you hunted for that car of Mr. Collinger’s,” said Agnes, slyly. “That was exciting, I’m sure.”
“Oh—ouch!” yawned Neale. “Don’t knock, Aggie. We may find that car—and Saleratus Joe—yet.”
“Your desire for low company shocks me, Neale,” giggled Agnes. “Saleratus Joe, indeed!”
“Don’t say a word,” the boy retorted. “You and Ruth met the gentleman first—don’t forget that,” and they separated for the night with laughter.
CHAPTER XVII—ONE THING AFTER ANOTHER
Things began to happen, however, bright and early the next morning. “The kids,” as Neale called the two smaller Corner House girls and Sammy Pinkney, were out of their beds betimes, and out of doors as soon as they were dressed. The blacksmith’s house was an old-fashioned place, and there were many things interesting to the little folks about it. Besides, if there had not been a thing in sight, the three juveniles would have dug up something interesting in a very short time.