“All right,” agreed the tall lad. “Of course Andy had no right to stow himself away, and he ought to have it rubbed in on him a little. But don’t be too rough with him, Ned.”
“I won’t,” was the promise, but Ned winked at Bob.
If Andy thought he was to have a sinecure on his stolen jaunt with the boys he was sadly mistaken. Ned particularly seemed to “have it in for him” and invented new tasks constantly.
Some of them were errands that really needed to be done, and, to the credit of Andy be it said, he did not once grumble. He might have suspected he was being “worked,” when he was made to wash the few dishes from lunch through two waters, a hasty rinse being all that the boys usually indulged in. But Andy was “game” and the dishes fairly shone when he restored them to the hamper.
But when, as they were traveling slowly along, looking for a good place to camp for the night, Ned looked over, saw one of the tires flat, and ordered Andy to get ready to pump it up, Jerry objected.
“You know he can’t pump it up—he isn’t strong enough,” the tall lad said. “Besides, we have an air pump on the motor.”
“I know, but I just want to see what Andy will say.”
Again the small lad was “game.”
“Where’s the pump?” he asked cheerfully, as the auto stopped. “I’ll have it full of air in a jiffy,” and he seemed ready for the back-breaking work.
“You’re all right!” declared Jerry, with a laugh. “I guess you can belong, Andy. Never mind the hand pump. I’ll soon have the tire fixed. We’ll have to put in a new inner tube, anyhow.”