“Never again!” he decreed, “shall you or Prissy try to sell things on the street.”
“But we’re all peddlers, Jack dear; you can’t get away from that fact.”
“Dissy,” said her brother, smiling, “you’ll get to be as much of an arguer as Prissy if you’re not careful.”
Halifax was wrapped in a chilly grey fog when the Wistmores drove in a couple of days later. The monotonous tones of the bell buoy in the harbor sounded continuously through the city, and buildings and pavements dripped with moisture.
“Guess we’d better push right on,” decided Jack, “and try to find before night a spot where it is dry enough to camp.”
“This certainly isn’t a very pleasant place today,” shivered Desiré, peering over his shoulder at the gloomy streets.
After they got beyond the limits of the city, the fog lifted somewhat so they could see the road quite clearly, and even some distance on either side. About ten miles outside of Halifax they caught sight of something dark under a tree ahead.
CHAPTER XX
GOOD SAMARITANS
“Maybe it’s a bear!” exclaimed René hopefully.
“Somebody’s old ragbag,” suggested Priscilla.