"I like the way you looked after it," he said with deep sarcasm. Mr. Thomas Hall, returning the other's scowl, drummed with his heels on the suit-case.
"Why didn't you stay and look after it yourself?" he asked angrily. "It isn't my fault that you went off chasing after fire-engines."
"I didn't chase after fire-engines. You said you'd watch my bag and——"
"Oh, yes, fine! Let someone pinch it right under your eyes! I notice you managed to keep your own bag all right!"
"Oh, dry up!" growled Tom.
Silence ensued until a conductor appeared and demanded tickets. Yielding their transportation, the boys were informed that they were in a parlour car and must pay twenty-five cents apiece to ride to Brimfield. Tom laid hold of his bag with a sigh, but Steve unemotionally produced a quarter and so Tom followed suit. When the conductor had disappeared again through the curtain Steve said:
"Why didn't they tell us this was a parlour car? How were we to know?"
"They just wanted our money, I suppose," replied Tom bitterly. "Everybody in this place is after your money. I wish I was home!"
"So do I," agreed Steve gloomily. More silence then, until,