"Great Scott! I thought I never would either!" he responded.
"What have you been doing? Climbing trees?" asked King. "Linda and I had nearly decided to be reckless and go to a movie."
"Nothing of the sort," averred Linda, "but I had begun to believe all four were punctured."
"One was," admitted Whitcomb, "and I've had a dozen delays." And he gnashed his teeth over a wasted hour of June as he handed his fair one into the front seat.
"Whither away?" inquired King.
"To the North Shore," responded Whitcomb, with fire in his eye which portended speeding.
"Drop me at the club, then, will you, Freddy?" And without waiting for the assent Bertram landed in the tonneau as the car started.
In front of the University Club he descended, and stepped forward beside Linda.
"I may not see you again," he said, standing between the wheels, hatless, and holding her hand. "Have a good time. If you send me a picture postal, it will be all off between us."
"What did he mean?" asked Whitcomb, as with a whirr and a jerk they were on their way again.