“Horrid thing!” exclaimed Agnes. “Don’t remind me of unpleasant things this morning. I feel—I feel as happy as a big sunflower.”
Just then they turned a curve in the level road and saw a lanky man in a drooping-brimmed hat, standing in the middle of the way.
“Hul-lo!” ejaculated Neale, slowing down.
“Is the man deaf?” demanded Mrs. Heard.
Neale punched the horn a couple of times, and the man merely turned to face them and held up a warning hand.
“Oh, cracky!” cried Neale. “Another tin-badger.”
“And he’s holding one of those tin watches on us, too,” said Agnes, in despair.
“Say!” observed Sammy, the sharp-eyed. “That’s the cop that wouldn’t let us build the fire yesterday.”
“It certainly is,” gasped Ruth. “Now what shall we do?”
“I feel like bumping him,” growled Neale. Nevertheless, he shut off the engine as the constable seemed to have no intention of moving out of the road.