"What's that, sir?" asked Frank, with a vague idea that his father had for once let a cog slip in his usually well organized machine.
"Why, you see, Baxter has a paper which I told him I would send for before it was needed. In going away so suddenly on important business I quite allowed that fact to slip my mind. I shall have to send some one up for it, I suppose; but the trouble is who to send. This is Christmas, and everybody wants to stick home."
"Why not let me go, dad?" demanded Frank, immediately.
"But think of all you boys have been through to-day. It's a shame to let you go on such an errand, when I might run up myself," continued the gentleman.
But Frank laughed to scorn the idea of his being tired.
"Why, even if I was," he remarked, "what is it to sit in a comfortable car, and spin along over the road like fun? Hey, Ralph, what do you say, could you stand a run up there and back? It's just three o'clock now. What's twelve miles in a good machine? What do you say, Ralph?"
"Count me in, Frank. Anything to pass the time away until nine o'clock," he said.
Mr. Allen looked puzzled.
"You see, he's expecting Uncle Jim and that lady on the train that was due nearly half an hour ago, and that accident to the freights up the road has blocked things so the express has to lie over up there, and won't get in till nine. But tell me what you want done, sir, and we'll go right away," and Frank started to hunt out a couple of warm fur coats that could be used on the trip.
Rather reluctantly Mr. Allen complied. Still, he needed some one to speed up to the new home of the Baxters and secure that paper which should have been in his possession long ere this. It was his error of judgment too, and hence he could not think of allowing the rich farmer to suffer from it.