“No, my friend; you will not lose one cent,” exclaimed Tony. “More, you shall make well. We are not the unappreciatives, ever. Show us this farmer estate and entitle us to be his guests and you shall want for nothing—eh, my friends Bill and Gus?”
“You’ve said it, Tony, and you are the cheese.”
“Ah, no; I am but the macaroni. Do you think this farmer will cook the spaghetti?”
“Not likely, but Farrell sits down to a good table, I reckon,” Merritt ventured. “Well, young fellers, let’s mosey on. It’ll be stiff goin’, though ’tain’t more’n a quarter of a mile now.”
It was stiff going. Bill managed to get through the thin places and they helped him through fast increasing drifts, Gus at last getting him on his back for a “gain,” as he expressed it, of fifty yards. Then Tony took a turn for a like distance, and Gus and Mr. Merritt crossed hands to “carry a lady to London”; so they would have got Bill along for a considerable distance had they not come opposite the end of a lane, with the dim outline of a house standing back.
Up the lane they went, hearing the muffled barking of a dog. The side door of the house opened, a big farmer with a huge voice greeted them cheerily. He was in his shirt sleeves, which argued for comfort inside the dwelling, and there was an air of comfort in the broad hallway that was gratifying. The three were received like young princes and ushered into a large sitting-room. From their chairs before a big stove, a pleasant woman and two young girls rose to welcome the wayfarers.
Merritt they knew by name, and he began an apologetic effort to account for their coming, but Bill took the matter in hand.
“Mr. Farrell, aren’t you? And I suppose this is Mrs. Farrell. My name is Brown and these are my friends, Mr. Sabaste and Mr. Grier; we are all students at Marshallton. Went in to Guilford to the stores and couldn’t make it going back, though Mr. Merritt put up a good fight with his little car. And now we are going to ask you if you can keep us for the night,—table and spare room? Anything that is handy, for we don’t want to give you trouble and we’ll pay——”
“Ah, the best. As if you are one fine hotel, because no such could give to us more of comfort.” This from Tony, who was always most liberal and eager to please. So saying, he pulled out ten one-dollar bills and gallantly tendered it to the lady, with a nod and smile at the farmer.
“That’s right. The wife has all the trouble. You boys are welcome; eh, Sarah?”