Part 17 (1/2)
”Then come along and have a jolly time with Sam and me. We can buy some dinner and get a ride home, as like as not,” said the amiable Billy, with a slap on the shoulder, and a cordial grin which made it impossible for Ben to resist.
”What are you stopping for?” demanded Sam, ready to be off, that they might ”take it easy.”
”Don't know what to do with Sancho. He'll get lost or stolen if I take him, and it's too far to carry him home if you are in a hurry,” began Ben, persuading himself that this was the true reason of his delay.
”Let Cy take him back. He'll do it for a cent; won't you, Cy?” proposed Billy, smoothing away all objections, for he liked Ben, and saw that he wanted to go.
”No, I won't; I don't like him. He winks at me, and growls when I touch him,” muttered naughty Cy, remembering how much reason poor Sanch had to distrust his tormentor.
”There 's Bab; she'll do it. Come here, sissy; Ben wants you,” called Sam, beckoning to a small figure just perching on the fence.
Down it jumped and Came fluttering up, much elated at being summoned by the captain of the sacred nine.
”I want you to take Sanch home, and tell your mother I'm going to walk, and may be won't be back till sundown. Miss Celia said I Might do what I pleased, all day. You remember, now.”
Ben spoke without looking up, and affected to be very busy buckling a strap into Sanch's collar, for the two were so seldom parted that the dog always rebelled. It was a mistake on Ben's part, for while his eyes were on his work Bab's were devouring the bill which Sam still held, and her suspicions were aroused by the boys' faces.
”Where are you going? Ma will want to know,” she said, as curious as a magpie all at once.
”Never you mind; girls can't know every thing. You just catch hold of this and run along home. Lock Sanch up for an hour, and tell your mother I'm all right,” answered Ben, bound to a.s.sert his manly supremacy before his mates.
”He's going to the circus,” whispered Fay, hoping to make mischief.
”Circus! Oh, Ben, do take me!” cried Bab, falling into a state of great excitement at the mere thought of such delight.
”You couldn't walk four miles,” began Ben.
”Yes, I could, as easy as not.”
”You haven't got any money.”
”You have; I saw you showing your dollar, and you could pay for me, and Ma would pay it back.”
”Can't wait for you to get ready.”
”I'll go as I am. I don't care if it is my old hat,” and Bab jerked it on to her head.
”Your mother wouldn't like it.”
”She won't like your going, either.”
”She isn't my missis now. Miss Celia wouldn't care, and I'm going, any way.”
”Do, do take me, Ben! I'll be just as good as ever was, and I'll take care of Sanch all the way,” pleaded Bab, clasping her hands and looking round for some sign of relenting in the faces of the boys.
”Don't you bother; we don't want any girls tagging after us,” said Sam, walking off to escape the annoyance.
”I'll bring you a roll of chickerberry lozengers, if you won't tease,”
whispered kind-hearted Billy, with a consoling pat on the crown of the shabby straw hat.
”When the circus comes here you shall go, certain sure, and Betty too,”