"Do it again, Bobby."
"All right," agreed Bobby. "You stay on, Dot, and we'll give you a
ride back. But Twaddles, you walk."
"I should think he'd better," declared Meg severely. "Kicking me in
the back like that!"
Twaddles was sure that he would remember the next time, and Meg forgave
him.
At the top of the hill they lined up again, and Bobby found Tim Roon
and Charlie Black on one side of him.
"Packs good, doesn't it?" said Tim affably.
During the fall and winter Tim and Charlie had occasioned a good deal
of trouble for Bobby in one way or another, and he was not at all
desirous of having much to do with them. In school, especially, they
had landed him in a sad scrape, and Meg, too, had had to endure their
teasing. Still, coasting was another matter.
"Have you been here long?" asked Bobby, as Dot tucked in her skirts and
Twaddles planted himself behind Meg. "Why didn't you come to school?"
"Didn't want to," grinned Tim. "Charlie and I coasted all the morning,
'cept once when we saw old Hornbeck's buggy and horse coming. Had the
whole hill to ourselves."
Dave Saunders shouted, and Meg and Bobby started. Down, down, they
flew, Meg's small hands steering capably, Twaddles' right foot prodding
her as enthusiastically as ever. Dot clung a little tighter to Bobby
and gasped with cold air and delight.
They were almost at the end of the coast when a loud roar of laughter
made them look back.
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