If Jerry had been absent-minded on the occasion of the ride following the ball game, he was much more so on this occasion. He was so careless in his steering that once he nearly ran into a tree, and another time he came so close to running down an elderly man that Bob and Ned, in the rear seat of the automobile, leaped up in alarm.
“What’s the matter, Jerry?” cried Ned, when the machine was slowed down.
“I don’t know,” confessed the tall lad. “I guess one of you fellows had better take my place. I get to thinking about that yellow clay, and I can’t put my mind on anything else. You’d better steer, Ned.”
“Well, perhaps I had, old man, if we count on getting home safely.”
“But say, you aren’t still thinking that clay is any good; are you?” asked Bob. “Not after what Professor Snodgrass told you?”
“I guess it’s foolish, but I am,” admitted Jerry, as the auto proceeded after the change of seats. “Somehow I can’t help thinking that there’s more in it than appears on the surface.”
“Oh, forget it!” advised Ned.
“Well, I’m going out there to have another look in a day or so,” decided Jerry. “Maybe those fellows will show a bit more of their hands, and I can get a line on what their game is. Yes, I’m going to have another look.”
“Will you have time before your mother makes up her mind to sell?” asked Bob.