“The greater part of it will have to be new,” commented Harvey.
“That being so, you can return this one in exchange, if you wish.”
“Is there any way, Mitchell, in which I can serve you?”
“None; I shall have what is left of the machine gathered up, as I said, and sent to the factory; that will take the remainder of the day, when I shall follow in the train. Meanwhile you are not called upon to lose any part of your vacation. There is no perceptible difference between the two biplanes, so you don’t need any help from me.”
The youths walked back to where a small group remained staring at the biplane in which Bohunkus Johnson was still seated, as alert as a watch dog. As the couple approached, the negro crooked his stubby forefinger to his friend, who went forward.
“What is it, Bunk?”
“Yo’s forgot something.”
“What is that?”
“It’s ’bout dinner time.”
The colored youth meant to whisper, but his husky aspiration carried as far as if he had spoken in a loud tone.