"Want to go?" asked Dad.
"You bet I do!" said I.
"All right, I'll speak to Mr. Carter as I go back to the store. He's home, isn't he?"
"Yes," I said, and then I suddenly thought of Bess and her "work," and at the same moment I felt a flash of suspicion.
"Dad," I said, "did you know Bess was going?"
"No," said Dad.
"Nor that Mr. Carter was?"
"No. Why?"
"And you hadn't thought about me going, until just now?"
"Why, of course not; but I don't believe he 'I'll object;—he likes you." Dad got up from the table. "Want to come along?"
"Sure!"
Mr. Carter was on the veranda when we came across the lawn. "I hear you're going to Chicago to-morrow night," said Dad.
"Yes," said Mr. Carter, "and I'm taking Bess along with me."
"Want another, for good measure?" said Dad, jerking his head toward me.
"Good work! Well, I should say I do!" Mr.
