“How on earth are you going to get all these things home?” asked one of the bullies. “You can’t load them on your ponies.”
“In a wagon, of course,” exclaimed Phil.
“But you haven’t any.”
“Not yet, but we’re going to buy one.” And he led the way from the store, followed by the loungers, mounted, and rode up the street, stopping at a big barn.
As the conclave halted, a loud voice called:
“Hey, Sam Turner, here are a couple of babies want a go-cart.”
The words brought the horse-dealer and hostlers to the door on the run.
Before any of them could speak, however, Phil said:
“We want to buy a pair of horses, a wagon, and harnesses.”
“Entrymen?” grinned the horse-dealer.