“Exactly my sentiments,” came from Randy. “Me for the mountains and plains and a life in the open air!”
| “Oh, for a life in the open air, Under the skies so blue and fair!” |
sang out Andy gayly.
“Gee, Andy is bursting into poetry!” cried Fred. “What’s going to happen next?”
“Maybe he ate something that didn’t agree with him,” giggled Mary.
“You’d better bottle up that poetry stuff, Andy,” remarked Jack. “Remember we’re going out to a ranch owned by Songbird Powell, and he was nicknamed Songbird while at Putnam Hall because he was always bursting out into home-made poetry. Maybe we’ll get a surplus of it when we get out to the ranch.”
Lunch was had in the dining car, and almost before the young folks realized it the train was rolling into Albany. Here an extra car was attached, and then they were off on the long journey through the Mohawk Valley to Buffalo, Cleveland, and the great city by the Lakes.
After the train had passed Utica Andy and Randy, who found it hard to sit still, took a walk through the cars from end to end, thinking they might meet somebody they knew. They were gone so long that Sam Rover became a little worried over them.
“I think I’ll hunt them up,” he said to his wife. “For all we know they may have gotten into some mischief.”
“More than likely they’re into something,” answered Mrs. Grace Rover. “They’re exactly like their father Tom when it comes to stirring things up.”