“I surrender!” Ready helplessly cried, throwing up his hands. “I might escape you by running, but the effort is too great.”
“You can’t run,” declared Ralph, as he grasped the joker.
“I know it. I have discovered something that can outrun me or any other man living. I’m going to enter it in all the races this season.”
“What is it?”
“A gas-meter.”
Bingham thumped Jack.
“You’ll have to pay for this coat,” he declared. “You tore it when you pulled me along.”
“Where did I tear it?”
“Why, on the back, of course.”
“And you were on the part that was torn. Oh, well, you are used to that. You often get on a tear.”