“Well, what can I do,” Mrs. Heard demanded, “with every one against me?”
So it was agreed to stay. First of all, Neale declared the car must be got into the barn, for it might rain; and then, it did not look well to have the automobile standing out in the open road.
“I’d like to know who you suppose is going to see it here?” demanded Agnes, with a sniff. “I don’t believe anybody ever drives through this road more than once a month—or unless there is a funeral in the family!”
“Maybe Saleratus Joe and that other fellow will be driving through in Mr. Collinger’s runabout,” said Neale slyly.
“Oh, if they only would!” gasped Agnes.
“A fat chance!” returned Neale. “And what if they did? Would you hold ’em up the way that imitation constable did us, and take the car away from them?”
“I don’t know what I’d do,” said Agnes. “But I’d do something.”
Meanwhile the boy rummaged around in the barn and found a set of blocks and the necessary tackle. This he rigged to a beam inside the barn and carried the rope to the car at the foot of the sloping driveway.
With the purchase this arrangement gave them, the young folks all “tailed” on to the rope like sailors and managed to drag the automobile into the barn; but they were more than an hour and a half at the work, and it was growing dark when they finished.
Meanwhile nobody had appeared to forbid their camping on the Higgins premises. A fire had been built in the open and the tripod set up. Mrs. Heard tucked up her skirts and grilled bacon (and her face) at the fire. There were eggs, too, and canned tongue and biscuits and plenty of fruit. They all thought it great fun.