But did old hefty fall for that clever little scheme? Not so you could notice it. Nor did he let us argue the matter further. Put up and shut up, were the orders we got, so, though we hated him now, we “put up,” as he expressed it, and thus saved our hides.
Taking the key of the car with him so that we couldn’t skin out, he was gone at least ten minutes. But if he woke up the gang in the ark to deliver the two dollars to them, there were no distant lights or sounds to prove it. Certainly, we didn’t hear any elephants or camels doing their stuff. The big boy was wiping his eyes when he came back. Even when a fellow’s wife had the rolling-pin habit, he told us sadly, blowing his nose, there was a certain amount of regret in leaving her.
Then on we went into the night, the old bus rattling and groaning as though each minute would be its last. But it held up, which showed that old Goliath was bringing us good luck, even though we had lost our two dollars. So it wasn’t right for us to hate him. Anyway, as I told Poppy, though the collection of the two dollars had seemed unnecessary to us, the big one had done what he thought was right. And when a fellow does that you’ve got to give him credit for it.
It was our scheme now to take the old geezer home with us and put him up for the night. Ma Doane wouldn’t care. And with a “spook” to catch and various other mysteries to solve, it wasn’t a bad plan, as you can see, to have a big guy like that on our side. If we went to Pardyville in the morning, he could go with us. Or if he was ready at breakfast time to go back to his wife and let her lovingly use the rolling pin on him, that was all right, too. We weren’t particularly interested in his plans.
Presently we met a horse and buggy in the sandy trail. I thought of Lawyer Chew right off. That was natural. But it wasn’t old fatty. Pulling out to let the rig go by us, and stopping for safety, I had the queer feeling, as our skinny light struck the buggy, that a pair of gimlet eyes were boring holes through us. Who was this thin-faced, foreign-looking man, I wondered, uneasy in the meeting.
Goliath then told us that it was Dr. Madden of Neponset Corners.
“I used to see a lot of him before he went to Europe. Guess he jest got back. Some one told me he was expected home to-day.”
I had forgotten that Ma Doane had spoken of this doctor. But Poppy hadn’t. Bu-lieve me, that kid doesn’t forget about anything.
“Isn’t this the doctor,” says he, “who took care of the old man in the big stone house before he died?”
“Um.... Reckon you mean Mr. Corbin Danver. Yes, Dr. Madden had that case.”