"I will, dad. Good-bye."
Dick stopped, on his way home, and called for Bricktop, Frank Bender and Walter Mead, inviting them to go for a ride in his trim little craft, which was in the boat house on Lake Dunkirk.
"Let's take our lunch and stay the rest of the day," suggested Bricktop. "It's too fine out doors to be around the house."
"Good idea," assented Dick. "I'll have our cook put us up a basket of stuff."
The eyes of the other boys glistened, for they knew from experience the good things that came from the Hamilton kitchen, and they had visions of cold chicken and turkey, fine cakes and big, thick, juicy pies.
As Dick and his friends entered the side yard, they saw, standing on the driveway, a rather dilapidated wagon, drawn by a very bony horse. In the wagon was something covered with a sheet, while on the seat sat a grizzled, dried-up sort of a man, with a little bunch of whiskers on his chin. Beside him was a woman in a calico dress, and she looked worried.
"Are you Mr. Richard Hamilton?" asked the man, looking at Bricktop.
"No; he is," was the answer, and Bricktop pointed at Dick.
"Hum! Well, I'm glad to meet you. I've been waitin' some time, an' the hired man, the one with his shirt front all showin', where his vest is wore out (for thus he described the butler's dress suit), said he didn't know when you'd come home. But I brought it along with me, jest as I said I would, an' I'll show ye how it works. Mandy, jest hold th' hoss until I git th' machine out," and though the animal did not seem in need of any restraint the woman grasped the reins her husband gave her.
Then, before Dick could remonstrate, the man got down from the wagon, and began tugging at the object covered with a sheet. It seemed quite heavy.