"But you always take his part, though, so he seems to be somewhat under
your care."

"And why shouldn't I? He deserves great credit for what he has done,
and it is very unbecoming of you to make fun of him."

"I wish you could have seen him this afternoon, though," and Dick
glanced across the table at Sammie. "We were speeding along in the car
when we saw him hoeing potatoes in a field by the road. His clothes
were all soiled, his sleeves rolled up, and he looked like a regular
bushman. I called out to him as we sped past, and you should have seen
the expression on his face when he saw us. It was like a thunder
cloud. I guess he felt pretty well cut up at being caught at such
work, ha, ha."

"Whom are you talking about, anyway?" Mr. Sinclair demanded. "What's
all this about 'Spuds,' I'd like to know?"

"Oh, it's only that country chap we met several years ago, don't you
remember?" Dick explained. "His real name, I believe, is Jasper
Randall, though we have always called him Spuds, because he was digging
potatoes when we first met him."

"You don't mean that big overgrown boy who helped us to carry Lois home
the day she sprained her ankle at Daltan Creek?"

"The very same, dad. And you remember what fun we had at the way he
sat and drank his tea out of the saucer?"

"But I didn't." Lois spoke sharply, while a flush mantled her cheeks.