Part 1 (2/2)
”What time do you want?” was the flippant response.
With a sigh, Ned pulled back his left sleeve and looked at his watch.
”It's only about a quarter to twelve. We don't have to get there until six if we don't want to.”
”I know, but I couldn't sit on this wall all that time! Besides, what about lunch?”
”I'm not very hungry,” was the sad reply.
”That's the trouble with having your breakfast late.”
”That's the trouble with eating two plates of griddle-cakes, you mean,”
retorted Laurie. ”Anyway, I'm hungry if you're not. Let's go.”
But he made no move, and they continued to dangle their shoes from the wall and gaze lazily across the shady street. The scissors-grinder's chime died in the distance. Farther down the street the whirring of a lawn-mower competed with the locust.
”Upon a wall they sat them down,” murmured Ned, turning a challenging look on his companion.
”Lost in the wilds of Orstead Town,” added Laurie.
Ned nodded mild approval and once more silence held.
Save that one was dressed in gray and the other in blue, the two boys were strikingly alike. Each was slim of body and round of face, with red-brown hair and a short, slightly impertinent nose. Ned's eyes were a trifle bluer than Laurie's and he had the advantage-if advantage it was-of some five pounds of weight. But neither of these facts was apparent at first glance. Faces and hands were well browned and the pair looked extremely healthy. They were dressed neatly, with perhaps more attention to detail than is usual in lads of their age, their attire terminating at one end in well-polished brown shoes and at the other in immaculate black derbies. Their age was fifteen years, three months, and eleven days. Which, of course, leads you to the correct conclusion that they were twins.
”Maybe,” hazarded Laurie, presently, ”we've lost our way.”
”Don't just see how we could,” Ned objected. ”The old chap at the station said we were to keep right along up Walnut Street. This is still Walnut Street, isn't it?”
”I suppose so.” Laurie's glance strayed right and left. ”Must be; I don't see any walnuts.”
”Guess the only 'nuts' are right here. Come on, let 's. .h.i.t the trail again.” Ned slid to his feet and took up his burden. ”Why the d.i.c.kens we didn't take that carriage the fellow wanted to sell us is more than I see.”
”'Cause we needed the exercise. Also, 'cause we're down to a dollar and fourteen cents between us-unless you 're holding out.”
”Well, I'm not!” replied Ned, indignantly. ”I paid for the breakfasts in New York-”
”And I paid for dinner on the diner last night-”
”Who said you didn't?” They went on leisurely, and presently Ned continued: ”Say, suppose we don't like this ranch after we get there-then what, old son?”
Laurie considered thoughtfully. Then, ”Two things we can do,” he p.r.o.nounced. ”No, three. We can put up with it, change it to suit us, or leave it.”
”Leave it! Yes, we can! On a dollar and fourteen cents?”
”We'll have nearly twenty more when we cash Dad's check and pay the term bill. Twenty dollars would take us back to New York and buy a lot of griddle-cakes, anyway.”
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