“I say have you got our valises?” asked Thankful. “Last I saw of them they was in that other wagon, the one that broke down.”
The driver slapped his knee. “Judas priest!” he cried. “I forgot all about them satchels. Here, Jabe,” handing the reins to his companion. “You take the hellum while I run back and fetch 'em.”
He was back in a few moments with the missing satchels. Then Jabez, who was evidently not given to wasting words, drawled: “Did you get the mail? That's in there, too, ain't it?”
“Judas priest! So 'tis. Why didn't you remind me of it afore? Set there like—like a wooden figurehead and let me run my legs off—”
His complaints died away in the distance. At last, with the mail bag under the seat, the caravan moved on. It was still raining, but not so hard, and the wind blew less fiercely. They jogged and rocked and splashed onward. Suddenly Winnie S. uttered another shout.
“The lantern!” he cried. “Where's that lantern I lent ye?”
“It's there in the house,” said Thankful. “It burned itself out and I forgot it. Mercy on us! You're not goin' back after that, I hope.”
“Well, I dunno. That lantern belongs to the old man—dad, I mean—and he sets a lot of store by it. If I've lost that lantern on him, let alone leavin' his depot-wagon all stove up, he'll give me—”
“Never mind what he'll give you,” broke in Captain Bangs. “You keep on your course or I'LL give you somethin'. Don't you say another word till we get abreast of Hannah Parker's.”
“Humph! We're there now. I thought these folks was goin' to our hotel.”