The entire company came out to see them depart. Again there was a vigorous handshaking all around.
"Be sure and come and see us again soon, boys," said the motherly Mrs. Baxter, as she stood there, her gray head covered by a gingham apron.
"We'll certainly drop in on you whenever we're up this way again, good folks," declared Frank, breaking away from the detaining hands of the girls.
"If you ever need a lively hustling lot of firemen, just remember us, will you, please; and let it be on a holiday too," cried Lanky, with one of his rare smiles.
And so they walked away toward the river, chatting as they went. Several times Lanky turned around to wave his handkerchief, and the others of course joked him unmercifully.
"Which is it you're waving farewell to, Lanky, that glorious dinner, or the red-cheeked girl, Dora Baxter?" demanded Ralph.
"You think it's smart, don't you, to say that?" retorted the other, indignantly. "Well, just turn your head and look back. Is that a turkey rack you see waving a kerchief after me, or does it look like a plump little girl, with the prettiest eyes and rosiest cheeks you ever saw?"
"Beg your pardon, old fellow. You've made an impression, all right. How is it you didn't know this Dora before? Didn't they used to live somewhere near you?" Ralph asked, curiously.
"She was away most all the time at her grandma's away up in the State. I reckon, part of the family stay there, now that the old folks are getting feeble. There's a heap more of 'em than you saw to-day. Hey! what was that moved in the bushes up yonder? Bet you it was that critter sneaking back."
But it turned out to be a foraging pig that had escaped from the sty, and was apparently wandering around looking for some soft spot to root, which it was hardly likely to find in such bitter wintry weather.