"Those poor, old, toothless, mangy beasts," chuckled Neale. "They had to be poked up half an hour before the crowd came in, or they wouldn't act their part at all. And half the time when the crowd thought the lions were opening their mouths savagely, they were merely yawning."
"Don't!" gasped Agnes. "You'll spoil every menagerie I ever see if you keep talking that way."
The laugh seemed to bring Neale back to a better mind. He sighed and then shrugged his shoulders. "We'll find Ruth," he said, with determination, "and then drive home. I'll see what Mr. Murphy says, and then see Mr. Sorber."
"But he's come to take you away, Neale!" cried Agnes.
"What good will it do for me to run? He knows I'm here," said the boy, hopelessly. "It would spoil my chance at school if I hid out somewhere. No; I've got to face him. I might as well do so now."
That Saturday night supper at the old Corner House was rather different from any that had preceded it. Frequently the Corner House girls had company at this particular meal--almost always Neale, and Mr. Con Murphy had been in before.
Once Miss Shipman, Agnes' and Neale's teacher, had come as the guest of honor; and more than once Mr. Howbridge had passed his dish for a second helping of Mrs. MacCall's famous beans.
It was an elastic table, anyway, that table of the Corner House girls. It was of a real cozy size when the family was alone. Mrs. MacCall sat nearest the swing-door into the butler's pantry, although Uncle Rufus would seldom hear to the housekeeper going into the kitchen after she had once seated herself at the table.
She always put on a clean apron and cap. At the other end of the table was Aunt Sarah's place. No matter how grim and speechless Aunt Sarah might be, she could not glare Mrs. MacCall out of countenance, so that arrangement was very satisfactory.
The four girls had their seats, two on either side. The guests, when they had them, were placed between the girls on either side, and the table was gradually drawn out, and leaves added, to suit the circumstances.
Neale always sat between Tess and Dot. He did so to-night. But beside him was the Irish cobbler. Opposite was the stout and glowing Mr. Sorber, prepared to do destruction to Mrs. MacCall's viands first of all, and then to destroy Neale's hopes of an education afterward.