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.
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