It was—well, not “busted,” but broken. One wheel had come apart. Being an old and a dry one, the spokes had fallen out.
The harness had broken, too, and it was useless to try to hitch Nicknack to the little wagon again. In fact, cart, as well as harness would have fallen in pieces.
“We’ll have to mend it,” decided Ted. “We’ll leave it here and drive Nicknack home without the cart. I wish we could get a new one.”
“Let’s ask daddy or mother,” suggested Jan. “They know now that our goat is good and that we can drive him. Maybe they’ll let us have a better cart.”
“They wouldn’t think we could drive Nicknack if they saw what just happened,” laughingly declared Ted. “But we couldn’t help it.”
Having brushed the grass and dirt off Trouble, the Curlytops, their fuzzy hair rather ruffled by their fall, started home through the lane. Ted mended the broken reins, and carried a cushion under one arm, while Jan took the others and led Trouble.
Baby William wanted to ride the goat home, with a cushion for a saddle, but Ted was afraid the animal, having found what fun it was to upset a cart (though really he did not mean to do so) might take a notion to toss Trouble off his back. So there was no riding for the rest of that day. They were soon at grandpa’s house.
“Why, The-o-dore Baradale Mar-tin!” cried his mother, using the little boy’s whole name, which usually was too large to be said all at once. “What has happened and where is the goat wagon?”
“Oh, it’s smashed! It was too old, anyhow!”
“Nicknack threw us out, but we’re not hurt,” added Jan.