"I am sorry I have nothing for nerves," and the fellow bowed, rather mockingly, it seemed. "I am a specialist in hair. If you would like any of my tonic—something to make your locks like mine," and he shook his own with an air of pride, "why," he resumed, "I am at your service!" Again he bowed.
"I don't think we care for any," answered Allen, who seemed to have, in common with the other boys, taken a dislike to the peddler. "Suppose we go on, Betty."
"Very well," replied the Little Captain at the wheel, as she advanced the gasoline lever. The motor had not ceased running.
"Then I can't sell you any of my Restorer?" called Mr. Bennington, as Betty slowly let in the clutch.
"No," answered Allen, and he glanced back in time to note the fellow making an elaborate bow, his white locks falling about his head in a "shower."
"I don't like him," Frank announced, when they were out of the man's hearing.
"Nor I," added Will.
"Why not? He seems harmless enough," spoke Amy. "Poor man! he probably has a hard time making a living."
"Don't you believe it!" declared Will. "To
