“Three trunks for one boy! For mercy sakes, what have you got in 'em?”
“Why—why, my things. My clothes and—and—everything.”
“Everything, or just about, I should say. Goodness gracious me, when I go up to Boston I have all I can do to fill up one trunk. And I'm bigger'n you are—bigger 'round, anyway.”
There was no doubt about that. Captain Zelotes laughed shortly.
“That statement ain't what I'd call exaggerated, Rachel,” he declared. “Every time I see you and Laban out walkin' together he has to keep on the sunny side or be in a total eclipse. And, by the way, speakin' of Laban—Say, son, how did you and he get along comin' down from the depot?”
“All right. It was pretty dark.”
“I'll bet you! Laban wasn't very talkative, was he?”
“Why, yes, sir, he talked a good deal but he sang most of the time.”
This simple statement appeared to cause a most surprising sensation. The Snows and their housekeeper looked at each other. Captain Zelotes leaned back in his chair and whistled.
“Whew!” he observed. “Hum! Sho! Thunderation!”