“This is really and truly the metropolis of Oak Run!” sang out Tom. “Move lively now, or you’ll be carried further.”
The two young travelers alighted, each with two suit-cases. In addition Fred carried a fishing rod. Hans was loaded down with a fishing rod, a shotgun, a big box camera, and a bundle done up in a steamer robe.
“Hello, Hans, did you just come across the Atlantic?” questioned Dick, as the boys shook hands all around.
“Atlantic?” repeated Hans Mueller. “Not much I didn’t, Dick; I come from home, chust so straight like der railroad runs alretty.”
“You brought a few things along I see.”
“Sure I did. Vy not, of ve go camping by der voods? I got my fishing shtick, and my gun, and a planket, and a camera to took vild animals.”
“Going to take their pictures first and then slay ’em, eh?” remarked Tom.
“Dot’s it.”
“Got your license, I suppose.”
“License. Vot license?”