CHAPTER V
A QUEER STAGE DRIVER

"I reckon I'll have to make another trip to get that old coach down to
the shop," growled the stage driver, as he tried to hurry the horses,
Kit and Doll, along.

"I hardly think it is worth moving," Mr. Bobbsey said, feeling
somewhat indignant that a hackman should impose upon his passengers by
risking their lives in such a broken-down wagon.

"Not worth it? Wall! I guess Hank don't go back on the old coach like
that. Why, a little grease and a few bolts will put that rig in
tip-top order." And he never made the slightest excuse for the
troubles he had brought upon the Bobbseys.

"Oh, my!" cried Nan, "my hatbox! Bert you have put your foot right
into my best hat!"

"Couldn't help it," answered the brother; "I either had to go through
your box or go out of the back of this wagon, when that seat slipped,"
and he tried to adjust the board that had fallen into the wagon.

"Land sakes alive!" exclaimed Dinah. "Say, you driver man there!" she
called in real earnest, "ef you doan go a little carefuler wit dis
yere wagon you'll be spilling us all out. I just caught dat cat's box
a-sliding, and lan' only knows how dat poor little Downy duck is, way
down under dat old board."

"Hold on tight," replied Hank, as if the whole thing were a joke, and