“My suitcase is packed,” he announced. “Ready?”
“You’re taking our acceptance for granted?” Mr. Livingston remarked dryly.
“Figured you wouldn’t turn it down,” the motel owner said with a grin. “Where do I ride?”
Willie slid out of the front seat to make room for him and crowded into the back with War and Jack.
“If you want, I can take the wheel,” Walz offered, once his suitcase had been stowed away. “I know this road like a book.”
“I’ll drive,” Mr. Livingston said, “but thanks.”
The Explorers had decided to be cordial to Walz, and therefore they kept up a polite conversation. The motel owner was in a good mood and seemingly had an endless stock of stories to relate. At first the Scouts did not mind, but after an hour or so they began to weary of his chatter.
When the car made its first stop at a filling station to get gas, true to his bargain Walz paid the bill.
“Maybe he’ll be okay, after all,” Willie remarked to Jack as they checked the tires before driving on.
“Maybe,” Jack agreed. “Time will tell.”