“I just was doin’ an errand at the grocery store when I heard some one say that you boys were goin’ off to school this mornin’,” answered Pat, “an’ I dropped everything an’ came down here on a dead run to say good-bye and wish you slathers of luck. I guess me mother will be after wonderin’ what’s keepin’ me, an’ she a waitin’ fur the butter an’ sugar,” he added, with a grin, “but she won’t care when I tell her what the reason was.”
“I wish you were going along with us, Pat,” said Bobby, who was genuinely fond of the good-hearted Irish boy.
“Yes,” drawled Pee Wee. “We’ve got a couple of fellows up at Rockledge that I’d like to see you handle just as you faced down Ap this morning.”
“If there’s any kind of a shindig, I’d sure like to be in the thick of it,” laughed Pat. “But I’ll trust you boys not to let them fellers do any crowin’ over you.”
“Right you are,” put in Mouser. “There aren’t any of ’em that can make Bobby and Fred lie down when they get their dander up.”
“Oh, dear,” sighed Betty, as the toot of the train’s whistle was heard up the track. “Here it comes. I just hate to have to say good-bye to you boys.”
“Never mind, Betty,” cried Bobby cheerily. “It won’t be so very long and you’ll hear from us every once in a while. And maybe we’ll be able to come home for a few days at Easter.”
There was a scurrying about as the boys got their hand-baggage together and brushed the snow from their clothes. The train had now come in sight, and a minute later with a great rattle and clamor and hissing of steam it drew up to the platform.
“All aboard!” shouted Mouser, and the four boys scrambled up the steps, Pee Wee as usual bringing up the rear.
They rushed up the aisle and were lucky enough to find two vacant seats next to each other. They turned over the back of one of them, so that two of them could sit facing the others, and tucked away their belongings in the racks and under the seats. Then they threw up the windows so as to have a last word with those they were leaving behind.