"O, I didn't mean anything, Billy; only you was so awful slow, you know."
"Slow, Fred Chase! You needn't call me slow! Bet you I can turn round three times while you're putting out one foot."
It is plain enough, from the tone of this conversation, that the boys had not started out with that friendly feeling, which two travellers ought to have for each other, who are intending to take a long journey in company. Fred saw it would not do for Willy to be so cross in the very beginning. He had had hard work to get the boy's consent to go, and now, for fear he might turn back, he suddenly became very pleasant.
"Look here, Billy; you can beat me running; I own up to that; but we've got to keep together, you know. Don't you get ahead of me—now will you?"
"I'll try not to," replied Willy, somewhat softened; "but you do get out of breath as easy as a chicken."
"Most time to begin to run?" said Fred, after they had trudged on for some time at a moderate pace.
"No; there's a man coming this way," replied the sharper-eyed Willy.
"O, yes; I see him now. Who suppose it is?"
"Why, Dr. Potter, of course. Don't you know him by his shappo brar?"
The chapeau bras was a three-cornered hat, the like of which you and I have never seen, except in very old pictures.