“It was my wheel,” said Frank, making a hasty examination, “and he has loosened things up generally around it. If I were to attempt to ride it now without putting it in shape, the chances are that I would break my neck the first hill I came to. It is plain enough that this wheel has been doctored to give me a fall.”
Kenneth examined it, and saw at a glance that Frank was right. Still, the hostler protested that he had done nothing to the wheel save move it over slightly, so it would not be in the way.
“These wheels are not in your way, Wade,” said Kenneth, sternly, “and you may let them alone. You have been drinking, and you know that means you stand a good chance of losing your position.”
The hostler looked sullen and subdued, but said nothing. His assistants had appeared, attracted by the sound of the encounter, but they were holding aloof.
Kenneth reprimanded Wade severely, and then informed Frank that supper was ready for the party.
The boys had been given a chance to wash up, and soon they were seated about a long table in the cool dining-room of the old mansion, with Kenneth St. Ives acting as host.
CHAPTER XXII—HANS USES THE HOSE
A jolly party it was. They laughed, and joked, and told stories. They ate, and drank, and were happy. Browning fairly groaned with satisfaction, and then tried to disguise the groan by a cough. Hans gasped as he looked about at the good things with which the table was loaded, and his eyes bulged.
“Shimminy Ghristmas!” he gurgled. “I feel like all dot stuff could ead me up und not half dry. I ain’d seen nottings like dot for so long dot you don’d rememper id.”
“Wal, gol darned ef this air ain’t a slappin’ good layout!” observed Ephraim. “I was beginnin’ to wish I was to hum on the farm where I could git some baked ’taturs, but baked ’taturs won’t cut no ice with me arter I git threw with this fodder.”