"Then this is the place," Van declared, drumming on the window glass with forced gaiety.
He did not, however, leap from the car with the spring of anticipation that Bob did, and noticing his spiritless step his friend once more remarked upon it.
"You seem bored to death to have to drag yourself through here, Van," said he. "What's the matter? You know if you do not want to come you don't have to."
"I do want to."
"But somehow you seem so-so—"
"So what?"
"Why, you seem to hang back as if you could hardly put one foot before the other," answered Bob. "Don't you feel well?"
"Prime! There's nothing the matter with me. What put that idea into your head?"
"Chiefly you yourself."
"Well, cut it out. I don't see what you're fussing about me for. I'm just as anxious to see how sugar is made as you are."