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But Joe was game, and while he determined to keep the matter as secret as possible, he agreed to the boss's proposition. "You're mighty stingy with yourself these days!" said Mittie Beaver one night a month later, when he stopped on his way to school. Joe grinned somewhat foolishly. "I come every evenin'," he said.
When Mittie reached the stream, Ferris had that moment arrived. He had made fast the painter, intending to run up to the house, and had stepped back into the boat to put the cushions right. A straight well-built young fellow, he looked eagerly up at the sound of steps; and when Mittie appeared alone, a momentary look of surprise came. But, of course Joan would follow!
"Maw says all you fellows are jealous 'cause he talks so pretty and wears such stylish clothes." "We might, too, if we got 'em like he done," Joe began, then checked himself. "Say, Mittie, why don't yer maw like me?" "She says you haven't got any school education and don't talk good grammar." "Don't I talk good grammar?" asked Joe anxiously. "I don't know," said Mittie; "that's what she says.
Don't stand looking at me like that, with your lip hanging down like a split gizzard. Go on! bring six, and for goodness' sake don't stop and talk! Soon as you come in put some more coal on the fire. Mittie Muncaster look blue already."
You don't think I am a kidnapper, do you? That's what Mittie Cole called me when I thought I was going to adopt the twins that were only runaways. Mittie got to like me afterwards, though." "I like you now." "Of course. Most folks do, but it takes a longer time with some to make up their minds. I'm glad you are quick at d'ciding. We turn this corner."
Beaver unhesitatingly, though she had in her pocket a note for him from the unhappy Mittie. Joe fumbled for his hat. "I guess I better be goin'," he said, a lump rising ominously in his throat. He got the gate open and made his way half dazed around the corner. As he did so, he saw a procession of small Ridders bearing joyously down upon him.
But let a certain signal be sounded and on top of that let a certain air be played and Mittie May, instantly losing that air she had of a venerable and dignified sheep, became a Mittie May transformed; a Mittie May reverted to another and more feverish time; a Mittie May stirred by olden memories to nightmarish performances.
In Mittie's mind lay a scarcely acknowledged fear that, if she were more explicit, Fred might insist on seeing Joan; and, in that event, that she might herself be in the end the one left behind. She was determined to have her day of fun. Ferris had grown suddenly grave. He made Mittie comfortable in her seat, cast loose, and took the oars; but he seemed to have little to say.
She debated whether to write a note for Mittie to take, and then decided that she would run down to the river-edge and would explain to Fred Ferris himself why she might not go, not implying any blame to her sister, but just saying that she could not leave her grandmother. The thought of this cheered her up, for surely he would understand.
Beaver, while Ben on his part found it increasingly pleasant to lounge in the Beavers' best parlour chair and recount to a credulous audience the prominent part which he was taking in all the affairs of the day. Matters reached a climax one night when, after some close financing, Joe Ridder took Mittie to the Skating Rink.
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