“They had to go away, miss,” he said; “they couldn’t stand it another minute. I will show you where the berries are.”
“But how did the girls get the berries? They had no money,” argued Cora.
“No, but their Aunt Delia took from them a ring that belonged to their own mother, and they took the crate to get even,” declared Andy, his voice and manner showing his high regard for the “getting even” part.
Cora told the girls and boys about the matter, and they decided to go after the berries. Consequently Cora insisted that Andy ride in her car to the old willow tree, somewhat down the road, and as each tenth of a mile was marked in red on the speedometer dial the little fellow’s face threatened more and more to catch fire from the auburn curls that fell in joyous affright about his temples.
Jack thought he had never known what it was to really enjoy a ride before, and he whispered to Cora that he very much wished he might take Andy home “for a paper weight, or a watch charm.”
“Right over there,” directed Andy, after about a mile’s ride, “under the big willow.”
Turning the car in that direction, Jack drove across a shallow ditch, and was soon under the tree, while the other machines waited on the safer roadway.
Andy scrambled out, and Jack, leaving the wheel, went after him, followed by Cora.
“Here,” said the boy, pulling aside a thick clump of berry vines. “Here’s the crate.”
Sure enough, there was the new crate, filled with berries, safe and untouched.