“That’s my name. Didn’t you know who I was?”
“No, sir, or I wouldn’t have——” Jack stopped.
“Wouldn’t have what?” demanded Mr. Finkler. “Wouldn’t have asked me for a ride, I suppose.”
“No, sir—I mean yes, sir.”
“Huh! Guess you’re the first Maple Ridge boy ever got a lift from me. And the last, likely. Young rascals!”
“I guess if you’ll stop, sir, I’ll get out,” said Jack.
“Here? Thought you were going to town?”
“I am, but as you don’t like Maple Ridge boys and as I’m one of them I won’t trouble you any longer, Mr. Finkler.”
The farmer shot a glance at him and flapped the reins lightly. “Huh,” he grunted, “sort of high an’ mighty, ain’t you? ’D rather walk than ride with me, eh?”