At the same time he could not help thinking, "This comes of Ham Morris and my new rig."
"There Dabney, that'll do," said his mother; "but how'll you spend Saturday?"
"Guess I'll take Ford Foster out in the bay a-crabbing, if he'll go," replied Dabney. "I'll run over and ask him."
It was not too late, and he was out of the house before there was a chance for further remarks.
"Now, he muttered," as he walked along, "I'll have to see old lawyer Foster, and Mrs. Foster, and I don't know who all, besides. I don't like that."
Just as he came to the north fence of his former residence, however, he was hailed by a clear, wide-awake voice: "Dab Kinzer, is that you?"
"Guess so," said Dab; "is that you, Ford?"
"I was just going over to your house," said Ford.
"And I was just coming to see you. I've been too busy all the week, but they've let up on me at last."
"I've got our family nearly settled," replied Ford, "and I thought I'd ask if you wouldn't like to go out with me on the bay to-morrow. Teach you to catch crabs."