“We’d get married right away.”
“And my money would be your money, wouldn’t it?”
“Oh!...” fatty quickly covered up, “I wasn’t thinking of that.”
“Of course not!”
“But we can be engaged. I think my father would like it.”
“How romantic. Can’t we elope, too?”
Here the loud slamming of the kitchen door ended the little comedy, and who should come steaming into the house but old road-roller, himself. Say, was he ever mad after his imprisonment in the barn. Nor was he fooled a single instant by Poppy’s disguise.
“So it’s you?” he thundered, yanking the wig off.
The fat kid’s eyes almost popped out of his head.
“Say— Say—” Then his face got red.