"I see your idea, and it's a clever one all right. What's the use of our trudging along like a couple of hoboes when by merely asking we may have the privilege of riding to town in style. I'm with you in holding 'em up, Frank."
"Then let's just wait here," said Frank.
"Yes, 'wait for the wagon, and we'll all take a ride,'" sang Lanky. "Honest, now, I never felt more like riding in my whole life. These clothes seem to weigh a ton, and every step I take I can hear the water scrouging around in my shoes like mush."
"You do illustrate your feelings the greatest way I ever heard. Yes, that vehicle's coming this way. There's a side road leading off toward Newtown above us, and I was a little afraid they might turn in there; but by now they have passed the lane. Perhaps it may only be a crusty old farmer, and he'll say no," suggested Frank, just to hear what his comrade would reply.
"Not after he hears the bleat I'll set up. He must have a heart of stone to refuse me, feeling as squdgy as I do. Suppose we stand here where he can see us. I don't hanker after being run down again. Once bit, twice shy, you know. It's bad enough to be kicked overboard in the river; this old road would be harder stuff to knock on."
The two boys awaited the coming of the vehicle with more or less eagerness, for a lift to town would be very acceptable in their soaked condition.
"Well, here it is! You do the talking then, Lanky!" exclaimed Frank, suddenly, as a buggy drawn by a seemingly tired horse came out of the gathering gloom.
Both boys immediately stepped forward. To their surprise the driver instantly drew in his horse as though the apparition of those two figures had given him a complete fright.
Lanky saw one of the men in the vehicle half rise in his seat, and make a vicious cut at him with the whip he held.
"Here, quit that, you!" shouted the astonished boy, as he ducked his head in time to avoid being struck by the whistling lash; "we only want you——"