"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 hit the trail again." Ned slid to his feet and took up his burden. "Why the dickens 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 pronounced. "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."
Laurie's voice was partly drowned by a small delivery automobile that dashed into sight at a corner ahead and sped by with a clamor worthy of a four-ton truck. The brothers looked after it interestedly. "That's the first sign of life we've seen," said Ned. "Say, I do wish this street would stop twisting this way. First thing we know, we'll be back at the station!"
"Bet you I'd hop the first freight then. I've got a hunch that we're not going to care for Hillman's School."
"Speak for yourself. I am. I like this town, too. It's pretty."
"Oh, it's pretty enough," grumbled Laurie, "but it went to sleep about a century ago and hasn't waked up since. Here's somebody coming; let's ask where the school is."
The girl appeared to be of about their own age and wore a white middy dress with black trimming and a scarlet tie knotted below a V of sun-browned throat. She wore no hat and her dark hair was gathered into a single braid. As she drew near she gave the boys a quick glance of appraisal from a pair of gravely friendly brown eyes. It was Ned who shifted his suitcase to his left hand and raised his derby. It was always Ned who spoke first; after that, they alternated scrupulously.