“And papa and Auntie Sue!” added Ernest. “Say, Frank, I tell you what let’s do! My new plane is coming next week, my owntie, downtie, ittie plane that I own all by myself. No Government about it! And to celebrate, I am going to have two weeks’ leave. Now if you will put me up I will come and visit you, since you are so insistent, and I say we go on a little still hunt after these guys. If they are anywhere in the hills, we can loaf overhead and watch for their smoke or trails or what not.”
“S’pose you did find them?” said Bill with a shudder of pleased anticipation. “Suppose you collared the whole batch? What would you do then?”
“We couldn’t collar the whole batch,” said Frank, shaking his head. “They are scattered all over the country. It looks like a brand-new organization to me. Nothing to do with the Bolsheviks or the Reds or any of those ducks. Something perfectly new!”
“Aw, they are all as old as the hills!” declared Ernest. “Just a lot of lazy, half-baked chaps who won’t work and haven’t the brains to study, but who hate everyone else who has anything or does anything. I’d like to see the whole caboodle set to chippin’ rocks for the next fifty years.”
“It is awful, at that, to have that sort of spirit,” said Frank. “I call it plain jealousy. They haven’t anything themselves and they don’t want anybody else to have anything.”
“Not even my eleven cents!” said Bill.
“No, not even your eleven cents,” agreed Frank with a smile. “Well, I went to a meeting of those anarchistic fellows once and, believe me, they all looked hungry. I wonder what they would be like if they were all parcelled out and fed well for two or three months.”
“Gosh, where is Fatty?” demanded Eddie suddenly.
“Speaking of eats!” said Ernest.
“Well, where is he?” asked Eddie again.