The Hardings smiled broadly.
"Well son, did we manage that to your satisfaction?" asked Peter.
"Sure!" said Mickey. "I might have been mistaken in what half of that trip
was for, but I think not."
"So do I," said Mrs. Harding emphatically. "They were just itching to get
their fingers on Peaches; while Bruce and Mr. Winton both were chagrined
over our getting you first."
"We feel bad about that too, don't we, Peter?" laughed Mickey.
"Well, I would," said Peter, "if it were the other way around. I didn't
mind the young fellow. You'll be with him every day, and he'll soon have
boys of his own no doubt; but I feel sorry for Mr. Winton. He looks hungry
when he watches you. He could work you into his business fine."
"He's all right, he's a nice man," said Mickey, "but I've lived off the
_Herald_ all my life 'til this summer, so when school is over I go
straight to Mr. Chaffner."
The Winton car ran to the club house; sitting in a group, the occupants
looked at each other rather foolishly.
"Seems to me you were going to bring Peaches right along, if you liked
her, Leslie," laughed Douglas.
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