“It’s too bad he thinks that, though,” mused Jack Borden. “It seems to me that if we want to get the field we’d ought to be decent to him.”
“Huh! It’s too late for that now,” responded Drake gloomily. “He thinks we’re a pack of thieves and pirates.”
“Still, if we told him we wouldn’t make any more trouble or take any more apples——” suggested Jack.
“He wouldn’t believe it,” Chesty laughed. “You might drop around and see him some day, Borden, and tell him that. Just mention my name and it will be all right.”
“And if you get a chance at that fool dog,” said Williams, “just give him a kick for me, will you?”
“And another for me,” added Drake.
Jack was silent for a moment, looking thoughtfully at the meadow over his shoulder. Finally:
“Just the same,” he said, “I have an idea that Mr. Fink——”
“Finkler,” corrected Sam.
“Finkler might be brought around if we set out to do it.” Jack smiled half apologetically. “Of course, I don’t know very much about it, fellows, but it looks to me like a situation demanding diplomacy.”