His appreciative listeners thanked him, and gradually drifted out of the room.
“You made a hit, Larry,” said Bob. “It’s just as I tell you. Your art is a novelty, and people are tickled to death with it. You won’t have to worry about making good when you get your try-out at the broadcasting station.”
“I hope you’re right,” said Larry. “I can’t wait until I’m strong enough, to take the trip. Anyway, I’ll have something to look forward to now.”
The time had passed so quickly that the boys could hardly believe it when Bob looked at his watch and told them it was nearly six o’clock.
“Good-night!” exclaimed Joe. “We’ll all be late for supper now. Guess we’ll have to say good-bye and beat it, Larry.”
“I suppose so,” said Larry, regretfully. “I want to thank you all again for what you’ve done for me, and believe me, I appreciate it.”
They all shook hands with him, and then started for home at a brisk pace.
“Seems to me we’re always in a hurry,” complained Jimmy. “You pretty near run my legs off getting here, and now I’ve got to repeat the 124 performance going home, or else get a cold supper when I get there. I wonder why I’m always out of luck that way.”
“You’d better save your breath, instead of wasting it in kicking,” Joe admonished him. “You’ll need it all before you get home, I’ll tell you. Let’s hit it up a little faster, fellows. Jimmy wants to get home before his supper gets cold, so we’ll have to see that he gets there.”
“Come on, Doughnuts, step on the throttle,” cried Herb. “Show us what you really can do.”