“How do I know? I never was in Weston.”
“I mean who signed it. There’s always a signature to a telegram and a date line, as well.”
“Oh dear! I didn’t pay ’tention to them. I never took a telegram before. I thought it was just what it said that counted.” And Jennie’s face puckered ready to cry. For she had been proud at being the bearer of the message and had confidently expected praise instead of criticism.
“Never mind, so long as I know Momsy’s coming, that is the main thing. But we haven’t much time to get to Chikau. How’s the road?” asked Ted, as he hurried from the shakedown and began to harness the blacks.
“Toler’ble.”
“That’s better than it was when we rode over here.” And without more words they filled the wagon with blankets and pillows to ease the jouncing for the little mother, then tied Daisy and Jennie’s pony to the tail.
“Almost forgot to leave a note for Phil and Andy,” exclaimed the boy as he was climbing to the seat. Stepping down, he ran into the hut, hastily scrawled, “Gone to meet Momsy and the girls,” and placed it on a branch beside the door where it would not fail to attract attention.
“You’re sure it said Friday?” asked Ted, as they drove along.
“’Deed I am. I asked three or four times, ’special.”
“Funny it didn’t get here sooner. It must have been Dr. Blair who sent it. At least, it sounds like—”