"Well--g'bye."

"Why, no," said Milla. "Anyways not yet. You can go back in the same
wagon with me. It's going to stop at the school and let us out there,
and then you could walk home with me if you felt like it. You could come
all the way to our gate with me, I expect, unless you'd be late home for
your supper."

"Well--well, I'd be perfectly willing," Ramsey said. "Only I heard we
all had to go back in whatever wagon we came out in, and I didn't come
in the same wagon with you, so--"

Milla laughed and leaned toward him a little. "I already 'tended to
that," she said confidentially. "I asked Johnnie Fiske, that came out in
my wagon, to go back in yours, so that makes room for you."

"Well--then I guess I could do it." He moved toward the wagon with her.
"I expect it don't make much difference one way or the other."

"And you can carry my basket if you want to," she said, adding
solicitously, "Unless it's too heavy when you already got your guitar
case to carry, Ramsey."

This thoughtfulness of hers almost overcame him; she seemed divine.
He gulped, and emotion made him even pinker than he had been under the
mayonnaise.

"I--I'll be glad to carry the basket, too," he faltered. "It-it don't
weigh anything much."