The said
burden consisted of no less than three motor car cranks. Grover
regarded them with surprise.
"Where in the world did you get those?" he demanded. "The last I
saw of you you were disappearing over that bank, apparently headed
out to sea. Do you dig those things up on the flats hereabouts,
like clams?"
Jed rubbed his chin. "Not's I know of," he replied. "I borrowed
these down at Joshua Rogers' garage."
"Rogers' garage?" repeated Grover. "That isn't near here, is it?"
"It is an eighth of a mile from here," declared Ruth. "And not
down by the beach, either. What do you mean, Jed?"
Jed was standing by the front window, peeping out. "Um-hm," he
said, musingly, "they're still there, the whole lot of 'em, waitin'
for you to come out, Major. . . . Hum . . . dear, dear! And
they're all doubled up now laughin' ahead of time. . . . Dear,
dear! this is a world of disappointment, sure enough."
"What ARE you talking about?" demanded Major Grover.
"JED!" exclaimed Ruth.
Barbara said nothing. She was accustomed to her Uncle Jed's
vagaries and knew that, in his own good time, an explanation would
be forthcoming. It came now.
"Why, you see," said Jed, "Phin Babbitt and the rest sendin' you
over here to find a crank was their little joke. They're enjoyin'
it now. The one thing needed to make 'em happy for life is to see
you come out of here empty-handed and so b'ilin' mad that you froth
over.
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