"Just buying a country store didn't seem to mean buying a lot of freaks along with the bargain," Nancy speculated. "And now here's Mr. Baldy who wants to be called after Uncle Sam, going right in back of my counter and helping himself--" "Ready, Sis!" called out Teddy, as he waited for Mr. Sanders to pay his bill. "You go along, Ted," called back Nancy. "I've got to stop some place, but I'll be there in time to open the door for you." Ted never questioned one of those queer decisions of Nancy's. He knew how useless such a thing would be; so off he went with the man in the short sleeved shirt, while Nancy tarried long enough to give them a fair start. Then, easily finding a way through the fields, she raced off herself, although getting through thick hedges and climbing an occasional rail fence, proved rather tantalizing. In front of the store she found Mr. Sanders just leaving Ted. They were both talking and laughing as if the acquaintance had proved highly satisfactory, but it irritated Nancy. "Now, I suppose, _he'll_ come snooping around," she grumbled. "Well, there's one thing certain, I'm not going to keep an old-fashioned country store. No hanging around my cracker barrels," she told herself, although there was not, and likely never would be a cracker barrel in the Whatnot Shop. Once more left to themselves, the burnt dinner was not referred to, as Ted helped at last to clear up the disordered kitchen. Not even the lost potatoes came in for mention as brother and sister "made things fly," as most belated workers find themselves obliged to do. "Here, Ted, get the broom." Ted grabbed the broom. "No, let me sweep. You empty those baskets of excelsior." "Where?" "Where?" "Yes. Can we burn it?" "No, never. No more fire for us," groaned Nancy. "Just dump the stuff some where." "But we can't, Sis," objected Ted. "Mother 'specially said nothing could be dumped around." "Well, do anything you like with it, but just get it out of the way," and Nancy's excited broom made jabs and stabs at corners without quite reaching them. Ted was much more methodical. He really would do things right, if only Nancy would give him a chance. Just now he was carefully packing the excelsior in a big clothes basket. "You know, Nan," he remarked, "Mr. Sanders is awfully funny." "How funny?" asked Nancy crisply. "Oh, he knows an awful lot." "He ought to, he's bald headed," answered Nancy, implying there-by that Mr. Sanders was an old man and ought to be wise. "Is he?" asked Ted innocently. "For lands sake! Ted Brandon!" exclaimed Nancy. "Can't you think what you're saying? Is he what?" The thread of the argument thus entirely lost, Ted just crammed away at the excelsior. "I'm just dying to get at the store," said Nancy next. "I want to fix that all up so that mother will buy more things to put in stock." "She's going to bring home fishing rods. I'm goin' to have a corner for sport stuff, you know," Ted reminded the whirl-wind Nancy.