“Well, we’ve the money to pay him, anyhow,” retorted Mary Louise, “and then Eben is too old and stiff now to take care of the garden and do all the outside work. Danny does all that now.”
“Oh, that alters the circumstances,” agreed Phoebe Phelps. “But it seems funny to see an old black man and a young soldier boy wearing the Hathaway uniform.”
“It is funny,” admitted Mary Louise, laughing, “but the soldier wanted it that way. He said it made him proud to wear the Hathaway badge of respectability. He’s a total stranger around here, you know--lives in some Eastern city and has conceived a remarkable admiration for little Dorfield.”
“Is that all you know about him?” asked Laura, suspiciously.
“He’s a soldier,” said Mary Louise proudly, “and entered the service a common private and came out a top-sergeant. _That’s something._”
“Shows he’s popular with his mates and a good soldier,” agreed Irene.
“He was appointed to Company C of our regiment, together with some others, after the battle of Argonne,” continued Mary Louise, lauding her hero earnestly, “and was twice wounded before being sent home with the Dorfielders. He had been offered an honorable discharge when he got that terrible cut across the forehead, but in a week he was back with the boys, fighting desperately.”
“Did he bring any recommendations?” asked Phoebe.
“Will White told me his story, and so far as recommendation is concerned, every man in the Dorfield Regiment will swear by him and stand for Danny Dexter to the last gasp. Don’t you like my new chauffeur, girls?”
“_I_ do,” responded Laura Hilton. “Father offered him a nice job at the mill, but he turned it down.”
“It was the same with _my_ father,” announced Phoebe.
“The back yard looks neater than it has in years,” commented Irene, “and he surely proved to us this afternoon that he understood driving an auto.”
“Gran’pa Jim declares it was my automobile that won him,” Mary Louise stated. “He wasn’t anxious to be our hired man, either, until he caught sight of the car, when he at once hired out.”
“Well, it _is_ a swell car,” declared Alora Jones, “and has every modern appliance. Besides, it shines like a diamond in the sun.”
“My, she’s only had the thing a month,” said Phoebe, “and it’s the most expensive little car in the market. Several have been sold in Dorfield already.” There was envy in this speech, and all the girls sighed in unison. Mary Louise, however, smiled slyly for she knew that with the exception of Irene, any one of the girls present could afford to buy a duplicate of her car.