'Well,' he said, 'we'll have to do something about that.'
Walking over behind the counter, he reached out and got a sack. I noticed it wasn't one of the nickel sacks. It was one of the quarter kind.
My eyes never left my grandfather's hand. Time after time, it dipped in and out of the candy counter: peppermint sticks, jawbreakers, horehound, and gum-drops. The sack bulged. So did my eyes.
Handing the sack to me, he said, 'Here. First big coon you catch with those dogs, you can pay me back.'
I told him I would.
On my way home, with a jawbreaker in one side of my mouth and a piece of horehound in the other, I skipped and hopped, making half an effort to try to whistle and sing, and couldn't for the candy. I had the finest grandpa in the world and I was the happiest boy in the world.
I wanted to share my happiness with my sisters but decided not to say anything about ordering the pups.
Arriving home, I dumped the sack of candy out on the bed. Six little hands helped themselves. I was well repaid by the love and adoration I saw in the wide blue eyes of my three little sisters.
IV
DAY AFTER DAY, I FLEW TO THE STORE, GRANDPA WOULD shake his head. Then on a Monday, as I entered the store, I sensed a change in him. He was in high spirits, talking and laughing with half a dozen farmers. Every time I caught his eye, he would smile and wink at me. I thought the farmers would never leave, but finally the store was empty.
Grandpa told me the letter had come. The kennels were still there, and they had dogs for sale. He said he had made the mail buggy wait while he made out the order. And, another thing, the dog market had gone downhill. The price of dogs had dropped five dollars. He handed me a ten-dollar bill.
'Now, there's still one stump in the way,' he said. 'The mail buggy can't carry things like dogs, so they'll come as far as the depot at Tahlequah, but you'll get the notice here because I ordered them in your name.'
I thanked my grandfather with all my heart and asked him how long I'd have to wait for the notice.
He said, 'I don't know, but it shouldn't take more than a couple of weeks.'
I asked how I was going to get my dogs out from Tahlequah.
'Well, there's always someone going in,' he said, 'and you could ride in with them.'
That evening the silence of our supper was interrupted when I asked my father this question: 'Papa, how far is it to Kentucky?'
I may as well have exploded a bomb. For an instant there was complete silence, and then my oldest sister giggled. The two little ones stared at me.
With a half-hearted laugh, my father said, 'Well, now, I don't know, but it's a pretty good ways. What do you want to know for? Thinking of taking a trip to Kentucky?'
'No,' I said. 'I just wondered.'
My youngest sister giggled and asked, 'Can I go with you?'
I glared at her.
Mama broke into the conversation, 'I declare, what kind of a question is that? How far is it to Kentucky? I don't know what's gotten into that mind of yours lately. You go around like you were lost, and you're losing weight. You're as skinny as a rail, and look at that hair. Just last Sunday they had a haircut-ting over at Tom Holland's place, but you couldn't go. You had to go prowling around the river and the woods.'
I told Mama that I'd get a haircut next time they had a cutting. And I just heard some fellows talking about Kentucky up at the store, and wondered how far away it was. Much to my relief, the conversation was ended.
The days dragged by. A week passed and still no word about my dogs. Terrible thoughts ran through my mind. Maybe my dogs were lost; the train had a wreck; someone stole my money; or perhaps the mailman lost my order. Then, at the end of the second week, the notice came.
My grandfather told me that he had talked to Jim Hodges that day. He was going into town in about a week and I could ride in with him to pick up my dogs. Again I thanked my grandfather.
