“It would be fine to go out there,” said Bob, reflectively. “But there’s school. We can’t get out of that.”
They all agreed they could not, and decided the only thing to do was to wait until the following summer.
“Too bad,” remarked Bob with a sigh. “Winter is the best time of the year out there, too.”
In spite of the fact that they knew, under the present circumstances, they could not go for several months, the boys spent an hour or more discussing what they would do if they could go to California.
“Oh, what’s the use!” exclaimed Ned, when Jerry had spoken of how fine it would be to hire a motor boat and cruise along the Pacific coast. “Don’t get us all worked up that way, Jerry. Have some regard for our feelings!”
“Well, let’s talk about school. It opens Monday.”
“Don’t mention it!” cried Ned. “I say—hello, there’s the postman’s whistle. He’s coming here.”
He went to the door, and returned carrying a letter, the envelope of which he was closely examining.
“You can find out from who it is by opening it,” suggested Jerry.
“Here’s a funny thing,” spoke Ned. “This letter is addressed to my father, but, down in one corner it says, ‘May be opened by Ned, in case of necessity.’”