"How about the price of the ticket to Chicago? You know we haven't more than a dollar between us?" suggested Eleanor, dryly.
Barbara had evidently forgotten the fact, but she was equal to the emergency. "I'll telegraph to the bank, the first thing in the morning, and have them wire me the money."
During this animated argument in the guest-chamber, a family gathering formed on the porch of the house.
"Mary, what shall we do with those seven huge trunks?" asked Mr.
Brewster, quizzically watching Polly.
"Seven! Why, Paw!" exclaimed Polly, instantly picturing the wonderful things those trunks held. Creations such as she had pored over in the "Farm Journal Fashion Notes."
"I don't know, Sam, unless we leave them in the wagon until the girls decide what they wish done with them?" replied Mrs. Brewster.
Sary overheard the conversation and now ran out to see whether there really could be seven trunks!
"Laws me! Ah never see'd sech quare-shaped trunks—all bulgy at one side, and all them brass locks!"
"They are wardrobe trunks, Sary," remarked Mrs. Brewster.
Sary deigned no reply to the information but vented a bit of her ire against the new-comers by shrugging her great shoulders and saying: "Ef Ah w'ar you-all, Miss Brewster, Ah'd shore pitch them trunks clar over th' line inta Wyomin' state whar th' Injuns kin scramble fer th' fancy duds!"