Frank laughed over it.
“I fancied you were planning something for us,” said Merry, “and so we turned it on you. It’s all right, fellows. No hard feelings. We’re able to stand the joke.”
“Joke’s on ush,” said Hackett.
For some time Fillmore rode in silence. They had reached Druid Hill Park.
Suddenly the captain of the lacrosse team flew into a drunken rage.
“Anybody can keep shober ’f he drinksh water!” he snarled. “That washn’t smart! I ’fuse to ride with a man who drinksh water! It’sh dishgrace! Lemme out! I’ll take car home! Lemme out!”
“Don’t be silly,” said Frank. “You’re not going home now, either of you. You’re not in condition to go home. We’ll take you to the Belvidere with us and get you straightened out. You don’t want to show yourselves in this condition. What will your sister think, Fillmore? What’ll she say? Keep still!”
“I’m all ri’! Guess I know when I’m all ri’! Needn’t think you’re only shober person on earth! I’m shober—perfec’ly shober. But I’ve been inshulted! I’ve been basely desheived! I won’t ride ’nozer inch wish you! Lemme out!”
“That’s ri’, Freddie, ol’ man!” joined in Hackett. “I’m wish you! Le’sh git out an’ walk.”
“Shtop thosh horsesh!” commanded Fillmore, starting to rise.