So Tommy and the man looked all around for the nut, but they could not find it. It had probably come off some time before the accident happened, and was lying far back in the road.
“I ought to have an extra nut,” went on the man, as he poked about in the dust and bushes with a stick. “Now I’m in a pretty pickle!”
“Why, can’t we go on to Riverdale?” asked Tommy.
“No, not a step. I’ve got to go to the nearest blacksmith shop and get a nut. We’ll have to give the horses their dinners, and let them stay here in the shade,” and the man went over and began unhitching the animals. Tommy noticed that there were nose-bags filled with hay and oats on the back of the van.
“The horses will have a good dinner and a rest,” said the moving man.
“Yes,” replied Tommy, slowly, “but what about you and me? I—I’m afraid I’m hungry!”
“Shouldn’t blame you a bit,” replied the moving man. “I am myself. But don’t worry. I’ve got a big pail full of lunch, and we’ll have a regular picnic here—you and I—and then, after we eat, I’ll go see if I can find a blacksmith shop and get a nut.”
After putting the nose-bags on the horses’ heads and tying the animals to a fence, in the shade of a big tree, the moving man got out a big tin dinner pail from under the van seat.
“Now we’ll have a fine meal,” he exclaimed. “My wife always puts me up a big lunch when I take moving loads out into the country. I know there are sandwiches and pie, and I’m pretty sure there are cookies. And in the top part of the pail there is, most likely, some rich milk. Oh, but we’ll have a fine dinner, even if we did have an accident!”
So he opened the pail. Suddenly he looked into it, as though something was the matter. Then he poked his fingers down inside the tin.