"
While the men eagerly lent shoulders and muscles to the task expected
of them, the three principals in this group made personal notes of each
other, albeit not a word was said.
"Ah never did see such ridiculous styles as this!" thought Sam
Brewster, looking the girls over from top to toe.
"This rough man Mr. Brewster! Why, he's a common farmer!" thought
Barbara, disdainfully.
"I bet Polly's father's a heap of fun!" thought Eleanor.
When Mr. Brewster realized there were _seven_ great trunks belonging to
two girls, he groaned within himself, wondering what in the world could
be found to fill so many!
The men were handed cigars, and as they doffed their hats to say "Thank
you-all" they backed away to permit the Boss to help the girls up the
high wagon-side.
Barbara looked at the rough stained hands and said insultingly: "No,
thank you!"
"Here--let me jump up and pull you in," laughed Eleanor, uncomfortably,
seeing that her sister had offended their host.
Sam Brewster turned to give his horses a pail of water while the two
girls attempted to climb up. But the small steel foot-rest was too high
to be reached without a boost from below, so they had to climb, hand
over hand, up the great wheel with its spokes clogged with the heavy
mud from the trails.
When they were finally seated, both girls looked at each other. Fresh
natty traveling suits were streaked by the mud, and their gloves--soft
chamois-skins--could now be thrown away.
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