“Whoa! Stop!” cried the Dutch boy to the old white horse, that was now attached to a light but rickety wagon. “It iss no further you vill haf to go py this direction. Pack up undt around turn.”
Before getting out he headed the horse away from the camp. This accomplished, he gave the animal some unnecessary advice about standing still and not running away, after which he turned cheerfully to greet the campers.
“It peen again a goot morning,” he beamed. “You vas glad to see me, I oxpect.”
“We sure are,” returned Grant, “though you near gave us heart failure by your early arrival. How did you ever succeed in waking up at such an unearthly hour?”
“Oh, sometimes I up vake when you didt not oxpect me,” replied Carl, getting the can of milk and at the same time carefully removing from the wagon a sizeable tin pail with a cover, the latter being held securely in place with a leather strap that passed the longest way round the pail.
Watching him, the boys noted that he handled that pail carefully, placing it gently on the ground some distance from the wagon, after which he delivered the milk.
“What yeou got in there?” asked Crane, pointing at the pail.
“Oh, nefer you mindt about dot,” was the mysterious answer. “Vot I haf in der pail got is somethings my own amusements for. Yah.”
He could not have chosen a better way to stimulate the curiosity of the boys.
“Show us what it is, won’t you?” urged Springer.