"No, and I fancy someone else doesn't either," said Paul, with a significant glance at the picture of a pretty girl on the bureau.
So it was arranged. The dance was a success, as all such affairs at Kentfield were, but we shall not concern ourselves with that. The day after it saw Dick and his chums, with Grit, on the way to the big auto show in New York.
"What kind of a car have you in mind, Dick?"
Dick Hamilton looked at Paul and Innis, who were in the parlor car with him, speeding on to New York.
"I haven't exactly made up my mind," answered the young millionaire. "I want a powerful car; if we're going to cross the Rockies I'll need power. But I want a comfortable one, too. It wants to be enclosed, and so arranged that if we have to we can sleep in it."
"Say, you want a traveling hotel; don't you?" asked Paul.
"Something like that, yes," assented Dick. "But I don't want such a heavy machine that we'll be having tire trouble all the time. I'm not going to make up my mind as to any particular car until I see what kinds there are in the Garden."
The boys talked of many things as the train sped on. Dick had engaged rooms for himself and his friends at the hotel where he and his father always stopped on coming to the metropolis, and a few hours more would see them at their destination.
The porter came up to Dick, his honest black and shining face wearing a broad grin, as he remarked:
"'Scuse me, but does one ob yo' gen'mans own a bulldog what is in de baggage car?"
"I do!" exclaimed Dick, quickly. "What about him?"
"Den yo' presence am earnestly requested up dere by de baggageman," went on the porter.
"Is Grit hurt?" demanded the young millionaire.
"No, sah, leastaways he wasn't when I seed him. He were feelin' mighty peart!"
"Then what's the trouble?" asked Dick, as he prepared to follow the colored man to the car ahead.
"Why dere's a man in de car, an' yo' dog won't let him go out."
"Won't let him go out?" asked Dick, wonderingly.
"No, sah! He jest completely won't let him go out ob dat car, and he's keepin' him right by de do, so de baggage man can't slide out no trunks, no how. An' we's comin' to a station soon, where dem trunks hab jest natchally gotter be put off."
"I'll see what's the matter," promised Dick, hurrying on. "Be back in a minute," he called to his chums.
