But I guess I'd have done better to have gone the long way.
I'm stuck for fair. Go 'long there, Stamp!" he called to the horse.
"See if you can move the boat."
"Stamp? Is that his name?" asked Betty.
"I just christened him that, Miss," replied Jimmie, with a smile.
"Why?" asked Grace, who was always the last one to see a joke.
"Because, Miss, he's--stuck!" was the answer, and the others, who had
anticipated this, laughed at poor Grace.
"I don't care!" she said. "I was thinking of something else then."
"Well, I guess I'll have to stay here until this mud dries up," went on
Jimmie, "or I might feed up Stamp until he is strong enough to pull me
out. Only that would take too long, I'm afraid. He's been kept on a diet
of carpet tacks, lately, to judge by the many fine points about him," he
added, whimsically.
Will alighted from the auto, and, going as far as the edge of the muddy
road, looked critically at the stalled wagon. Then he asked:
"Have you a long rope?"
"Not a very long one," said the boy peddler, "but I have one that may
do. I'll get it," and he delved in the rear of his vehicle.
"What's the game?" asked Frank.
"I was going to see if we couldn't pull him out of the hole," replied
Will. "If the rope is long enough to reach from his wagon to the auto,
and the rope holds, and his wagon doesn't pull apart with the strain, we
can do it.
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