Mrs. Pitney led the Curlytops and the others, except Mr. Martin and Lucy, into the sitting room. Mr. Martin was going to help Lucy bring in the baggage.
As he was doing this Mr. Pitney came in from the barn, where he had gone to oversee the milking of the cows by his hired man. The situation was explained to the farmer by Mr. Martin. Then Mr. Pitney, looking sharply at the automobile, said:
“You must have been carting hay.” He pointed to some wisps of the dried fodder dangling from the rods that supported the top.
“Oh, that!” laughed Mr. Martin. “No, we weren’t exactly carting hay, but we passed a load at a tight squeeze, and then my youngest boy climbed up on the hay wagon and went to sleep. It was Mr. Armstrong’s hay.”
“Silas Armstrong?” asked Mr. Pitney.
“That was his name, yes. He said he lived around here.”
“I should say he did! Why, he’s a neighbor of mine!” exclaimed Mr. Pitney. “Shake hands, Mr. Martin. I feel as if I knew you since you’ve met my neighbor Si Armstrong on the road. Come right in and make yourself at home. Here, give me one of the satchels.”
He helped bring in the baggage, and then, in his loud, jolly voice, he told his wife that Mr. Martin had met Silas Armstrong with a load of hay. This seemed to make them better acquainted.
Mrs. Martin was given a room for herself in which Janet and Trouble could sleep, and Ted and his father had another room.
“When’s supper going to be ready?” asked Trouble, in a loud voice after the sleeping arrangements had been made.