“Of course you have,” agreed Gordon soothingly. “By the way, Lanny, heard the latest? Fudge is going to get a job with Castle at the soda fountain.”
“Yes. Can’t you see Fudge, with a white apron on, leaning across the counter asking, ‘What kind of s-s-s-s-soda will you have, Miss?’”
“‘S-s-s-sarsparilla, please,’” responded Lanny.
“‘S-S-So s-s-s-sorry, but we’re all out of s-s-s-sarsparilla. We’ve got s-s-s-some nice ch-ch-ch-ch-chocolate, though.’”
“Oh, dry up,” said Fudge, with a grin. “If you fellows come around there I’ll p-p-poison you!”
“Well, come on, fellows, it’s supper time,” said Lanny. “Don’t you take that car out and go ‘joy riding,’ Mr. Ryan.”
“Huh!” growled the Brent coachman, who had viewed the proceedings with deep pessimism. “I wouldn’t touch the thing for a hundred dollars. How do I know it won’t be blowin’ me up some fine night?”
“It won’t if you treat it kindly,” Fudge assured him. “Give it plenty of oats and hay, Mr. Ryan, and a drink of gasoline now and then and it’ll be as quiet as a lamb.”
They left the coachman muttering over the harness he was cleaning and got on their wheels. “Who will you get to look at it?” asked Lanny as they rolled homeward.
“I don’t know. Not Stacey, anyway. Of course I’ll have to talk with Morris first, and Mr. Brent too, I guess. And maybe it won’t come to anything.”
“Never you mind, son. It’s something that doesn’t concern little boys.”
“Go on and tell me,” begged Fudge. “Is it a secret?”
“It wouldn’t be if you knew it,” answered Gordon unkindly.
“I’d like to know when I ever blabbed anything,” exclaimed Fudge indignantly. “Didn’t I know all about Charlie Matthews a whole week before anyone else did? And didn’t I——”
“Well, we may tell you some time,” teased Gordon. “What do you think, Lanny?”
“I guess so. It would cost money to advertise it in the paper, and so——”
“Oh, you make me tired,” growled Fudge. “I don’t want to know it anyway. ’Tain’t anything, I’ll bet!”
“Then what you so—so mysterious about?” Fudge demanded.
“To arouse your curiosity, Fudge. Good-night, Gordie. Maybe you’d better tell him before he busts up. Good-night, Fudge. Say, we play Lesterville Saturday, don’t we?”
“You bet! And don’t forget practice again to-morrow. We want to beat those fellows.”