"Well, I hope you'll come and see us again," invited Dick, as his uncle started to go. "But won't you let me send you to the station in the auto? It isn't being used."
"No, Nephew Richard. Not for me!" exclaimed Uncle Ezra. "You might bust a tire, and then you'd expect me to pay for it."
"Oh, no, I wouldn't!"
"Well, then, there might be some accident, and I might get my clothes torn. That would mean I'd have to have a new suit. I've worn this one five years, and it's good for three more, if I'm careful of it!" he boasted, as he looked down at his shiny, black garments.
"Then you're going to walk?" asked Dick.
"Yes, Nephew Richard. There's grass almost all the way to the station, and I can keep on that. It will save my shoes."
"But people don't like you to walk on their grass," objected Dick.
"Huh! Think I'm going to tramp on the hard sidewalks and wear out my shoe leather?" cried Uncle Ezra. "I guess not!"
He started off, trudging along with his cane, but paused long enough to call back:
"Oh, Nephew Richard, I got the cook to put me up some sandwiches. I can eat them on the train, and save buying. The idea of charging ten cents in the railroad restaurant! It's robbery! I had her use stale bread, so that won't be wasted."