"We'll come right over with the team for them," said Mr. Peck.
And he and Al at once harnessed up, and placing a large, strong coop in the wagon, drove over to the Bascom place.
"I should think you'd have your geese tame enough to drive," said Nat; but the Pecks paid no attention to the remark.
Mr. Peck pulled his cap well down over his eyes, put on a pair of gloves and entered the hen-house.
The ice had by this time melted from their backs and wings, and those thirteen geese were the liveliest flock of birds imaginable.
"Thirteen of them. All right!" said Mr. Peck, passing out the last struggling bird to his son, who clapped it into the coop.
A dollar and thirty cents was handed to Nat by Al's father, with the cutting remark:
"There's your money, young man! I hope you won't grow up to be as mean as you bid fair to be now."
Nat accepted the money, considerably shame-faced, and followed the Pecks back to their place to see them unload the geese; but he was disappointed, in that they were not unloaded, Al flinging some corn into the coop, which was allowed to remain in the wagon.
"Aren't you going to put them into the pen again?" inquired Nat, mildly.