“Look at that!” cried Andy. “Say, he can go some! If I only had a gun now! Squirrel pie for mine!”
“Squirrels are out of season now,” remarked Bob. “You’d be fined if you shot ’em.”
“That’s right,” chimed in Ned.
“Let’s go on to Blairtown, and have a bite to eat,” suggested Bob, after a pause. “There’s a good restaurant there.”
“Humph! Seeing that squirrel must have made you hungry,” commented Ned with a laugh. “But go ahead, if you like, Jerry. I don’t mind.”
Jerry, at the wheel, nodded, and for some time guided the car in silence. Now and then Andy made some excited remark at the sight of something along the highway. Bob and Andy exchanged occasional opinions.
“How’s she running, Jerry?” asked Bob, after a bit.
“Yes, our fellows did some good running,” was the unexpected answer.
“Oh, wake up!” cried Ned, with a laugh. “We weren’t talking about the ball game.”
“No?” queried Jerry. “I thought Bob said something about runs.”