Free Air - Page 16/176

"But won't Adolph dig it out again?"

The banker was puffy, but his eyes were of stone. From the truck he took

a shotgun. He drawled, "In that case, the surprise party will include an

elegant wake."

"But how did---- Who is this extraordinary Milt Daggett?"

"Him? Oh, nobody 'specially. He's just a fellow down here at

Schoenstrom. But we all know him. Goes to all the dances, thirty miles

around. Thing about him is: if he sees something wrong, he picks out

some poor fellow like me, and says what he thinks."

Claire drove on. She was aware that she was looking for Milt's bug. It

was not in sight.

"Father," she exclaimed, "do you realize that this lad didn't tell us he

was going to have the hole filled? Just did it. He frightens me. I'm

afraid that when we reach Gopher Prairie for the night, we'll find he

has engaged for us the suite that Prince Collars and Cuffs once slept

in."

"Hhhhmm," yawned her father.

"Curious young man. He said, 'Pleased to meet you.'"

"Huuuuhhm! Fresh air makes me so sleepy."

"And---- Fooled you! Got through that mudhole, anyway! And he said----

Look! Fields stretch out so here, and not a tree except the

willow-groves round those farmhouses. And he said 'Gee' so many times,

and 'dinner' for the noon meal. And his nails---- No, I suppose he

really is just a farm youngster."

Mr. Boltwood did not answer. His machine-finish smile indicated an

enormous lack of interest in young men in Teal bugs.