Then the owner of the wagon began to descant glowingly upon the many advantages of going on a road hike aided by the service that such a specially constructed wagon would give. In fact, Mr. Titmouse dwelt so enthusiastically upon the value of his wagon that Dick shrewdly told himself:
"He's very anxious—-unusually so—-to rent us that wagon. I've already found out that he hasn't used the wagon in two years, nor has he succeeded in renting it to anyone else. The wagon is so much useless lumber in his stable."
"I wouldn't rent that wagon to everyone," Mr. Titmouse wound up.
"No, sir," Dick agreed heartily, yet with a most innocent look in his face. "Not everyone would want the wagon."
"I—-I don't mean that!" Mr. Titmouse exclaimed.
"In fact, sir," Dick went on very smoothly, "I have learned that you have been offering the wagon for sale or hire during the last two summers, without getting any customers."
"Eh?" demanded Mr. Titmouse in some astonishment.
"Naturally, sir," Dick went on, "before coming here to see you I made a few inquiries in Tottenville. I discovered that in this vicinity the wagon is something of a joke."
"What's that?" questioned the other sharply. "My camping wagon a joke? Nothing of the sort. And, if it is a joke, why did you want to get it?"
"Oh, all of our fellows can stand a joke," laughed young Prescott "So I came over to see just what terms we could make for the use of your wagon during the month of August."