"I believe so," replied Ward, laughing more heartily than he had all summer.
"Well, say it then! It seems to me you’re trying to put it that you would that your tongue could stammer the thoughts that surge up in your massive brain. Why the very calves of Rockford are glad I’ve come," he added, as there came a louder blast of lamenting from the pen. "I say, Ward, what are they there for? Are they calves which you have specially fattened up for the return of the prodigal?"
"They’re fatter now than they will ever be again, I’m afraid," said Ward smiling.
"It was mighty kind of you to have a whole yard full waiting for me. I didn’t expect to have but one. But, then, that’s always the way with Ward Hill. He’s capable of doing a heap more than he ever lets on. But I say, old fellow, you don’t know how glad I am to see you. It’s driven every freckle on my face out of sight."
And the impulsive Speck again held his friend out at arm’s length and gave him a look in which all his boyish love seemed to find expression.
Ward picked up his friend’s traveling bag and together the boys started up the quaint winding street of the old village, on their way to his home, Jack meanwhile chattering on of all his summer experiences, and of what he had heard from the other boys.
"Here we are!" he shouted as they came in sight of Ward’s home. "It’s just the same, only better than it was. Hold on a minute, Ward," he added as they stopped by the gate. "I’ve got one thing to say to you, and I want to say it right now. You’re going back to Weston, aren’t you? Your letters haven’t been very satisfactory, and I must know. Tell me. Tell me, quick!"
"I don’t know," replied Ward evasively. "We’ll talk about that later. Here’s mother waiting for you."
The boys turned quickly and walking rapidly up the flower-bordered path were warmly welcomed by Mrs. Hill, and then at once entered the house.
After dinner that same evening Henry Boyd came over and joined them, and for a long time the three boys sat on the vine-shielded piazza and talked about the experiences of the preceding year at Weston. At times their laughter could have been heard far up the street, for Jack Hobart was not one to permit quiet long to reign where he was.