Bill Sherwood had been notified that the party would arrive at noon, and had his team and farm-wagon waiting at the station when the would-be campers jumped down and looked about in high spirits. Zan introduced each one to Bill, while the latter grinned and held his palmetto hat circling in his toil-hardened hands.
Straw had been piled in the bottom of the wagon and the girls were lifted over the great wheel and dropped into the soft straw. Miss Miller was accorded the distinction of sitting on the high spring seat beside the driver. She held her breath in trembling and grasped the edge of the rocking seat whenever Bill turned a corner or gave way to a passing vehicle on the narrow road.
The drive over the hills was beautiful and Bill pointed out various spots along the road and explained the value of soil, herbage, and trees.
After seven or eight miles had been covered, the horses began ascending a steep hill well-timbered.
"When we get to the top of this climb you will get one of the loveliest views we have about here," said Zan.
"Yes'm," assented Bill, "and there's where you kin spy th' farm, too."
"Then we must be almost there," ventured Miss Miller, whose seat on the loose spring board was anything but comfortable.
"No'm, not by four mile more. The gent what ust t' own th' farm afore th' doctor got it, ust t' say, 'Bill, this air th' longes' four mile I ever hope t' travel!'" and Bill chuckled to himself as the team strained at the haul up the steep road.
Long before the travellers reached the farm every one was stiff and glad enough to jump out of the wagon. But Bill warned them to wait yet a while longer—he had pictured to himself the grand manner in which he would sweep between the two stone posts and flourish his whip as the wagon rolled up to the front porch. To permit the girls to jump out prematurely, would spoil his pleasure.