Mr. Hooper, his nephew, his daughter and another girl, fat and dumpy, were at the power site before two o'clock, and without more ado Bill asked Gus to bring the transit to the comparatively level field on top of the hill.
"Now, Mr. Hooper, please don't think we're doing this in a spirit of idle controversy; we only want to show you something interesting."
"That's all right, lad; an' I ain't above learnin', old as I am. But
Thad here, he's different." Mr. Hooper gave Bill and Gus a long wink.
"Thad, he don't reckon he can be learned a thing, an' he's so blame
sure—say, Thad, how 'bout that bet?"
"We don't want to bet anything; that only—" began Bill, but Gus was less pacific.
"Put up, or shut up," he said, drawing a borrowed five dollar note out of his pocket and glaring at Thad. The slim youth did not respond.
"He's afraid to bet," jeered the daughter. "Hasn't got the nerve, or the money."
"I ain't afraid to bet." Thad brought forth a like amount in bills. "Uncle'll hold the stakes. You got to tell how far it is from here to the house without ever stepping the distance."
"We'll make a more simple demonstration than that," Bill declared. "It'll be the same thing and take less time and effort. Mr. Hooper, take some object out there in the field; something that we can see; anything."
"Here, Gracie, you take a stake there an' go out yan an' stick it up.
Keep a-goin' till I holler."
Both girls carried out these directions, the fat one falling down a couple of times, tripped by the long grass and getting up shaking with laughter. The boys were to learn that she was a chum of Grace Hooper, that her name was Sophronia Doyle, though commonly nicknamed "Skeets."