I got Mr. Pennykorn on the telephone. And it was arranged that I was to meet Poppy at the train and take him directly to the bank, where the contract was to be signed.
CHAPTER XX
POPPY SPRINGS A SURPRISE
Starting down the street, after having telephoned to Mr. Pennykorn from the Western Union office, as I have written down in the conclusion of the preceding chapter, I was overtaken by a kid who had a note for me from the president of the Ladies’ Aid. I was to come over to the church right away, the note said, as the “committee” wanted to talk with me on important business.
What I did, instead of obeying the note, was to sneak up an alley and hide in Mr. Weckler’s apple orchard. Any old time you’d catch me going over to the church to “talk business” with that bunch of buzzing women. They were up on their ear, of course, over the farmer’s cucumbers, of which the other two loads were probably piled in front of the door. And what they wanted to do was to jump on my neck. Gosh all Friday! I had tried to head the farmer off. But he wouldn’t listen to me. So it wasn’t my fault.
Mr. Pennykorn could talk to them a whole lot better than I could. Or better than Poppy, either, for that matter. For he was a business man. So the thing for me to do, I wisely decided, was to keep out of sight until the paper had been signed. That would make the banker responsible. Paying them off, as he had agreed to do, the mountain of cucumbers would then be hauled over to the canning factory and everything would be lovely. Mrs. O’Mally would get her money, too. As for the farmer, I should worry about him. My hope was that I’d never see him again.
Mrs. Clayton caught sight of me from the back porch.
“Why, Jerry Todd!” says she in surprise. “What are you doing here?”
“Hiding,” I pushed out a sickly grin.
“Hiding?” she repeated, searching my face. “Are you in trouble?”
I told her then about the mess that we had made of our pickle business.