“No, that wasn’t quite all. He asked me about that trouble we got into last week.”
“Oh, do you mean about the time we were pulled in for speeding?” asked Jerry with a laugh.
“That’s it,” assented Ned. “Only it isn’t going to be anything to grin at if dad finds out all about it—that we nearly collided with the hay wagon while trying to pass that roadster. Say, but it was some going! We fractured the speed limits in half a dozen places.”
“But we beat the roadster!” exclaimed Jerry. “That fellow didn’t know how to drive a car.”
“You’re right there. And, for a second or two, I thought you were going to make a mess of it,” said Ned, referring to an incident that had happened about a week previously when the boys, out on the road in their car, had accepted an impromptu challenge to race, with what might have been disastrous results.
“It was a narrow squeak,” admitted Jerry.
“And the nerve of that farmer, setting the constable after us!” cried Bob. “Just because we wouldn’t let him rob us of ten dollars to make up for a scratch one of his horses got from our mud guard.”
“I sometimes think we might have come out of it better if we had given the hayseeder his ten,” said Jerry, reflectively. “It cost us fifteen for the speed-fine as it was. We’d have saved five.”
“And is that what your father was asking about?” asked Bob.