“Get a horse!” shouted some one.
“Step out and push,” chimed in another.
“Don’t you know any better than to block the cars?” said a third.
Suggestions and bantering remarks flew thick and fast, while George, red in the face and fuming, jumped out and began to examine the machinery.
Another car rolled up; wagons began to stop, and, in a few minutes, the embarrassed boys began to think the whole population of Poughkeepsie had assembled at that particular point.
“Try an aeroplane next time, boys,” said a tall, grave-looking man.
“Speak gently, and coax it,” laughed his companion.
“We’re twenty minutes late now,” growled the disgusted motorman, approaching. “Things is comin’ to a pretty pass when youngsters is allowed to run them things by theirselves. Hurry up, bub. Hey, you in the car, why don’t you get out of that, and help your pard?”
“Fond of stayin’ out in de roin?” asked an urchin.
“I’m twenty minutes late now, an’——”