By good rights Saturday
belongs to me anyway because I am born Saturday's child."
"Well, hurrah for Saturday! It always was a grand old day," said
Donald, "and since I see what it can do in turning out a girl
like you, I've got a better opinion of it than ever. We'll call
that settled. I'll always ask you on Friday at what hour to
come, and hereafter Saturday is ours."
"Ours it is," said Linda.
Then she put the Bear Cat through the creek and on the road and,
driving swiftly as she dared, ran to Lilac Valley and up to Peter
Morrison's location.
She was amazed at the amount of work that had been accomplished.
The garage was finished. Peter's temporary work desk and his cot
were in it. A number of his personal belongings were there. The
site for his house had been selected and the cellar was being
excavated.
Linda descended from the Bear Cat and led Donald before Peter.
"Since you're both my friends," she said, "I want you to know
each other. This is Donald Whiting, the Senior I told you about,
Mr. Morrison. You know you said you would help him if you
could."
"Certainly," said Peter. "I am very glad to know any friend of
yours, Miss Linda. Come over to my workroom and let's hear about
this."
"Oh, go and talk it over between yourselves," said Linda. "I am
going up here to have a private conversation with the spring. I
want it to tell me confidentially exactly the course it would
enjoy running so that when your house is finished and I come to
lay out your grounds I will know exactly how it feels about
making a change.
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