“We talked of a tour when we found we had a chance to get a car,” put in Chunky. “I for one would like to go out West.”
“Ho for the West!” piped up Andy. “Over the plains—herds of cattle—cowboys in chase—rattlesnakes and horned toads—sandy deserts—Indians—bang! Shoot ’em up! Lots of excitement—take me along—whoop!”
“Easy!” pleaded Jerry. “One thing at a time, Andy. Haven’t we had excitement enough for one day?”
“We ought to make a strike to go on a western trip, though,” spoke Ned, in serious tones. “Here we have a car that we could cross the continent in. Let’s speak about it at home. It can’t do any harm. Maybe the folks will let us go.”
“It’s worth trying for,” said Jerry. “What do you say, Chunky?”
“I’m with you,” replied Bob. “It will be the best sport ever. But wouldn’t we have to wait until next spring? It’s fall, and if we go West it may be very cold, with lots of snow soon.”
“We can bear off to the south,” said Jerry.
“Sure enough,” agreed Chunky.
That night, when the automobile had been safely put away in the barn at Bob’s house, three anxious boys broached the subject to their respective parents. So insistent were they that it was not long before a general council was arranged. Mrs. Hopkins and Mr. Slade were induced to call at Mr. Baker’s house, where, with the three boys, the whole subject was gone over.