“Will you play fair?” asked Mouser suspiciously.
Fred put on an air of offended virtue.
“Do you think I’m a crook?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” retorted Mouser in a most unflattering way. “A fellow that will pour water down my back when I’m trying to do him a favor will do anything.”
Fred looked at him sadly as though lamenting his lack of faith, but proceeded briskly to tear the strips. The boys drew and Bobby had the luck to retain his seat, but Fred had to exchange with Mouser.
“It’s a shame to have to sit with Pee Wee,” said Fred as he squeezed in beside the fat boy. “He takes up two-thirds of the seat.”
“The conductor ought to charge him double fare,” grinned Mouser.
Pee Wee only smiled lazily.
“Look at him,” jeered Bobby. “He looks just like the cat that’s swallowed the canary.”
“It would take more than that to make Pee Wee happy,” put in Fred. “A canary would be a mighty slim meal for him.”