“Yes, that’s the name,” Jennie eagerly interrupted. “I wasn’t sure, so I didn’t want to say.”
“And was it dated Weston or Boston, Mass.?”
“I don’t remember.”
The time passed quickly for the girl as she listened to her companion’s account of his doings, but it seemed to Ted that they never would come in sight of Peleg’s store.
“Gracious! it’s four o’clock,” he cried in dismay, looking at his watch. “As they didn’t come this morning, they must be coming on 64 and she’s due at five. How near are we?”
“Inside of five miles.”
“Then sit tight. I’ve got to trot if we’re going to cover five miles over this road in time to meet the train.”
But the going was so rough that after almost being thrown under the horses’ hoofs several times, the boy slowed down.
“Momsy’ll be disappointed if no one meets her,” he murmured.
“Let’s stand up back of the seat. Then you can trot,” suggested Jennie. And doing so, they were soon bumping along at a smart pace.