“No. Why on earth should I want their number? I hope I never see them again.”
He almost stammered in the flood of his wrath. “If I had it, I’d prosecute them–have them fined and put in prison.”
“What for–scolding us?” inquired Aunt Kate softly.
He did not answer for a time. When he turned his temper had departed. “Kate, I was wrong, I suppose,” he said.
She looked at him curiously and there was affection in her glance; but her voice was stern as she replied, “Obadiah, you were headstrong and it led you into trouble, as it used to when you were a boy.”
“Yes, Kate.” In Obadiah’s tones was a new note.
Thereafter, Archimedes pursued his way in the safety of the gutter until they turned into a little used lane where great trees, decked in wonderful autumnal colors, arched overhead, and unkempt hedges brushed their wheels. The birds, disturbed in their preparations for their trip South, made short, noisy flights ahead of the vehicle, protesting against the intrusion.
Regardless of this, Obadiah and Archimedes, meditating upon recent injuries, pursued the path that fate would have them follow.