As for George Brayton, he had decided that the trip to the lake should not be a “walk,” and Runner’s best pair of horses, in front of what he was pleased to call a “baroosh,” were on hand in due time to transport the sailing-party, lunch and all.
Mrs. Wood had taken especial pains in the preparation of the lunch, and even Zeb Fuller would have been compelled to admit that there was nothing “ghostly” about it.
There was a funny sort of smile on Mrs. Dryer’s face when that span of horses was pulled up in front of the Doctor’s residence, but she had no other use for it than to keep it in its proper place, above her teeth, till Effie had taken her seat beside George Brayton and the “baroosh” disappeared beyond the trees of the village green.
Then, indeed, her learned husband was glad enough to plead several engagements with the Academy trustees and hurry away to keep them.
Prompt as had been the departure of Bar and Val and their friends, Zebedee Fuller and his faithful cronies had the start of them and were already tempting the perch and pickerel, when the “baroosh” came to a standstill in front of the somewhat heterogeneous home of Puff Evans.
“It’s all right,” said Puff to Bar. “She’s ready, name and all. There’s heaps of bait under the seat and it’s a right down good day for fishin’. Only there may be squalls.”
“Squalls?”
The word lingered in Bar Vernon’s ear for a moment, but just then Effie Dryer exclaimed:
“There she is. The prettiest boat on all Skanigo!”
“Why, so she is,” replied Sibyl, “a very pretty boat, indeed. What’s her name, Mr. Vernon?”