“Oh, here and thar,” Mr. Perkins replied easily. “Here and thar.”
The conversation which ensued was all Greek to Lou, who took off her hat, leaned her head against the side of the van, and went peacefully to sleep.
She was awakened by a hand gently shaking her shoulder and found that the van had been halted in the middle of a maple-lined street before a big house which bore a sign labeled: “Congress Hotel.” Busy little shops shouldered it on either side, and a band-stand stood in the open square.
“Come down, Lou.” Jim stood on the sidewalk reaching up for her hands. “This is New Hartz.”
Mr. Perkins was not in the van, but as Lou scrambled over the wheel he appeared from the door of the hotel.
“Young man, I wish I was goin’ further, but I ain’t, and I want ter talk a little business 50with you.” He drew Jim aside. “You and your sister wouldn’t ha’ ben walkin’ it in from Hudsonvale if you could ha’ paid ter come any other way.”
“No, Mr. Perkins.” Jim backed away smilingly. “We couldn’t think of–of borrowing, but thanks for the ten-mile lift into New Hartz.”
“Glad ter hev your company.” Mr. Perkins suddenly dived around to the back of the van and his voice came to them muffled from the depths of its interior. “Wait jest a minute.”
He emerged, red and perspiring, with a small package wrapped in a square of something shimmering and white in his hands, which he offered to the wondering Lou.
“It’s jest a little present fer you, miss,” he said.