"I bet Polly's father's a heap of fun!" thought Eleanor.
When Mr. Brewster realized there were seven great trunks belonging to two girls, he groaned within himself, wondering what in the world could be found to fill so many!
The men were handed cigars, and as they doffed their hats to say "Thank you-all" they backed away to permit the Boss to help the girls up the high wagon-side.
Barbara looked at the rough stained hands and said insultingly: "No, thank you!"
"Here—let me jump up and pull you in," laughed Eleanor, uncomfortably, seeing that her sister had offended their host.
Sam Brewster turned to give his horses a pail of water while the two girls attempted to climb up. But the small steel foot-rest was too high to be reached without a boost from below, so they had to climb, hand over hand, up the great wheel with its spokes clogged with the heavy mud from the trails.
When they were finally seated, both girls looked at each other. Fresh natty traveling suits were streaked by the mud, and their gloves—soft chamois-skins—could now be thrown away. Even their faces had been smeared with mud when they slipped and had to clutch at any possible rescue. Naturally, they were not in too amiable a frame of mind for what awaited them at the end of the trip.
The high spring-seat was the only one, so Barbara had to sit there. "I simply cannot hold on to this sky-scraper!" complained she testily.
"It's the only one, Bob, so you will have to!" replied Eleanor.
In another moment, Mr. Brewster climbed up easily and sat beside the strangers. He churked to the horses and drove away in a manner that threatened to hurl the city girls from their earthly perch into kingdom come.