“All of which relieves our minds,” remarked Dave, gravely. “Hold on, Vic!”
Victor, however, thoroughly disgusted, had no intention of waiting. Only a week before the hand of a senator had patted him on the shoulder in a fatherly way—and now! Well—“Mister Joe Rodgers” evidently didn’t know to whom he was talking. It was outrageous; and, what was more, Dave had calmly permitted both of them to be insulted without even putting in a word of protest.
“I wish I’d never heard of this confounded bunch of wonders,” he said in audible tones.
A glance over his shoulder showed Dave looming up close behind and the water-carrier tramping across the lot with his heavy burden.
“Oh, I’m mad clean through, Brandon,” snapped Victor. “Don’t take my arm. No; I won’t listen.”
He did, however. Dave had a way that was hard to resist. The historian’s job was not an easy one, but there were so many interesting sights and sounds connected with “Spudger’s Peerless” that the angry look on Victor’s face gradually faded away.
After every portion of the grounds had been visited Victor spoke up.
“It’s time to get over to the wharf, Brandon,” he said. “Guess by this time Somers has talked Uncle Ralph off his feet.”
“Then, to save him from serious injury, we’ll hurry,” laughed Dave.
“Aren’t you going to say good-bye to your new-found friend, ‘Mister’ Joe Rodgers?”