"Cut out all the grumbling and the discomfort talk," warned Dave
Darrin.

"Well, I don't know that I need to grumble, if you can feel contented
behind that old cart," laughed Reade. "How does it go, Darry?"

"I haven't begun to notice, as yet," replied Dave coolly.

Tom eyed him suspiciously.

"Darry," he remarked presently, "you're talented."

"In what way?" Dave inquired.

"You're one of the most talented fibbers I ever encountered.
You've been pushing that cart all of four minutes, and you pretend
that you don't notice the work."

"I expected to work when I left home," Darrin informed him. "If
I hadn't felt that I could endure a little fatigue, then I'd have
remained at home and looked for a job sleeping in a mattress factory's
show-room."

Tom subsided after that. Dave's fifteen minutes were up presently,
but he declined to accept relief at the push cart until they reached
the point where their road branched off on to the rougher highway.
Now, Greg and Hazelton took the cart, Greg at the handles, Hazelton
pulling ahead on the rope.