"That was an accident," replied Mr. Bennington, who continued to dust
his clothes, which seemed to have accumulated considerable of the dirt
of the road. "I was up on the hillside gathering the herbs I use in my
tonic, when my foot slipped. I heard the auto coming, and I was afraid I
might roll under it. That is why I yelled."
"Oh," said Mollie, faintly. "Well, you got on our nerves, Mr.
Bennington."
"I am sorry I have nothing for nerves," and the fellow bowed, rather
mockingly, it seemed. "I am a specialist in hair. If you would like any
of my tonic--something to make your locks like mine," and he shook his
own with an air of pride, "why," he resumed, "I am at your service!"
Again he bowed.
"I don't think we care for any," answered Allen, who seemed to have, in
common with the other boys, taken a dislike to the peddler. "Suppose we
go on, Betty."
"Very well," replied the Little Captain at the wheel, as she advanced
the gasoline lever. The motor had not ceased running.
"Then I can't sell you any of my Restorer?" called Mr. Bennington, as
Betty slowly let in the clutch.
"No," answered Allen, and he glanced back in time to note the fellow
making an elaborate bow, his white locks falling about his head in a
"shower."
"I don't like him," Frank announced, when they were out of the man's
hearing.
"Nor I," added Will.
"Why not? He seems harmless enough," spoke Amy.
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