“Well, most things that are worth while or give us lasting pleasure, laddie, require work and effort,” he said. “You’ll find that out as you go along. You see, we might go this morning, but we’d have to come back in a day or two for more clothes, or the swing, or some of the other things Mother is busily thinking of and packing up this morning. And down at Nestle Cove, the man who owns the cottage Aunt Bessie has rented is opening it and cleaning it and putting it in good order for us, so we’ll be comfortable the rest of the summer. If he didn’t look at it till ten or fifteen minutes before we were due there, the roof might leak, or the rooms be damp and dirty, and then we’d have to spend the first week of our stay making things pleasant and comfortable. So we’ll wait till the time to go, and do everything there’s to be done while we’re waiting, shall we?”
“Let’s,” nodded Sunny Boy, who really understood. “Look, Daddy, there’s Ruth and Nelson Baker out in front of their house. Ruth’s waving to you.”
Mr. Horton stopped the car, and beckoned to the Baker children.
“Hop in,” he said pleasantly. “I have to go over to Aunt Bessie’s apartment and you might as well have the little ride. I’ll tell your mother where we’re going. Wait for me.”
He went on into the house, and Ruth and Nelson scrambled into the back of the automobile.
“Isn’t it hot?” said Nelson. “I’ll bet there’s a thunderstorm this afternoon. Don’t scratch the paint, Ruth.”
“I’m not!” retorted Ruth indignantly. “Let me ride up in front, Sunny?”
“Don’t you let her,” urged Nelson. “You always want to do whatever you see any one else do. Sit down, or I’ll tell Mother.”
Ruth, who had been trying to climb over the back of the seat, sat down, not so much to please her brother as because she saw Mr. Horton coming.
“Now we’re off,” he said, getting in. “I’m to take you two Bakers down to your father’s office after we’ve been to the apartment. I hear you’ve been wearing out your sandals at a shocking rate.”