The old man bustled around and seemed so anxious to dispel the unpleasant impression he had made at first that Molly and Midge met him halfway, and beamed happily as they accepted the pleasant refreshments he set out.

“Fall to, fall to,” he said, rubbing his big hands together, as he watched the children do justice to the feast.

The girls suddenly discovered that they were both tired and hungry, and the old gentleman’s hospitality put them in a much pleasanter frame of mind.

“Now, what’s all this about pineapple extract?” he inquired.  “I didn’t half get the hang of it, and I was only joking you when you all seemed to get scared to death.”

So Marjorie told him the whole story from the beginning and asked his opinion as to the wisdom of the plan.

The old man’s eyes twinkled.  “I’ve nothing to say about that,” he replied, “but I’ll tell you what I’ll do:  I’ll buy your whole stock of pennyroyal tea,—­or whatever it is,—­and I’ll pay you ten dollars for the lot.  It isn’t a question of what the stuff is worth in itself, but a question of its value to me; and I’ll rate that at ten dollars, and here’s your money.  You can spend it yourselves, or give it to your poor people, whichever you like.”

“Of course we’ll give it to the Dunns,” declared Marjorie, “that is, if we take it, but I’m not sure that we ought to take it.”

“Go ’long,” cried the old man; “take it?  Of course you’ll take it! and give those children a feast or something.  I know you, little Miss Curly Head, you’re Steve Sherwood’s niece, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” said Marjorie; “do you know Uncle Steve?”

“Know him?  I should say I did!  You just tell your Uncle Steve that old Bill Wallingford wanted to make a contribution to charity and he took this way!  Now, little ladies, if you think you’ve enough for one day, nothing will give me greater pleasure than to hitch up and take you home.”

The girls were glad to accept this invitation, for they had walked nearly three miles in all, with their heavy baskets; and much of the time with heavy hearts, which are a great hindrance to pedestrians.

So old Uncle Bill, as he instructed the children to call him, harnessed a pair of horses and drove the three young business women back to their respective homes.

“Well, Marjorie Maynard, where have you been?” exclaimed Grandma, as Midge made her appearance.

And, then, without further delay, Marjorie told the whole story.

Uncle Steve lay back in his chair and roared with laughter, but Grandma Sherwood was not entirely amused.

“What will you do next, Marjorie?” she cried.  “Didn’t you know, child, that it is not becoming for a Maynard to go around the streets peddling things?”

“Why not, Grandma?” asked Marjorie, to whom it had never occurred there could be any objection to the occupation.  Her only doubt had been as to the price they ought to ask for their goods.