Chapter 1. Mr. Titmouse Doesn‘t Know Dick
_ CHAPTER I. MR. TITMOUSE DOESN‘T KNOW DICK
"We thought ten dollars would be about right," Dick Prescott announced.
"Per week?" inquired Mr. Titmouse, as though he doubted his hearing.
"Oh, dear, no! For the month of August, sir."
Mr. Newbegin Titmouse surveyed his young caller through half-closed eyelids.
"Ten dollars for the use of that fine wagon for a whole month?" cried Mr. Titmouse in astonishment. "Absurd!"
"Very likely I am looking at it from the wrong point of view," admitted Prescott, who fingered a ten dollar bill and was slowly smoothing it out so that Mr. Titmouse might see it.
"That wagon was put together especially for the purpose," Mr. Titmouse resumed. "It has seats that run lengthwise, and eight small cupboards and lockers under the seats. There is a place to secure the cook stove at the rear end of the wagon, and the stove rests on zinc. Though the wagon is light enough for one horse to draw it, it

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