“Don’t! It hurts. I’m too mad to laugh.”
He chuckled. Then he grabbed Polly excitedly.
“Come on!” he cried.
“Where?” breathlessly hurrying along by his side.
“The avenue makes a big curve above here, before it gets to the fork, and we can go straight up this next street and head ’em off, maybe—they’re going pretty slow.”
“I don’t b’lieve we can.”
“We’ll try it anyhow. You’re not tired?”
“Oh, no!”
Racing over long stretches, slowing to catch breath, then running again,—thus the fork was finally reached. But no Lone Star or the thud of his feet greeted eyes or ears.
“I might have known we couldn’t go as fast as Lone Star!” David exclaimed disgustedly.