"Well, what do you think of this, Ralph? Ever see such a tremendous day? Seems as though everything were knocked into one long line of happenings. And I hope, pard, that it will wind up with just the most glorious luck for you. Why, by the way things are running, it just can't help it, that's what. Say, suppose Lanky happened to spy us whirling past his house, and heading up that way, don't you think he'd whoop after us a little? Guess he'll believe one of us had gone sweet on that little rosy-cheeked Dora Baxter, and meant to make a quick call to see if there were any more fires that needed putting out."
Frank laughed at the conceit. They had bundled into the fine car owned by Mr. Allen, and which Frank knew well how to drive, for he had always taken a great interest in all sorts of mechanical devices.
Once upon the road they headed into town, as there was a short-cut Frank knew that would save more than a mile.
"Talk of an angel and you hear its wings!" cried Ralph, pointing, "for there's our chum Lanky right now, gaping at us. Pull in to the side of the road Frank!"
"Say, fellows, what's all this mean. Thought you could sneak past, and pretend not to see an old friend, eh?" exclaimed Lanky, as the car pulled in.
"Look at him, still dangling his skates!" cried Frank. "I declare if he's even been home since he left us. Now, what d'ye suppose the fellow has been doing all this half hour?"
"Seems to me as if he backed out of that restaurant yonder," suggested Ralph, wickedly.
At that Lanky threw up his hands in horror.
"That's just the limit, and me wondering how I'm ever going to do my share in getting away with the dinner my folks will spread out this same evening. Chuck it, boys, and let me down easy. But where are you off to, so gay? Seems to me you're in an awful big hurry for a ride, so soon after getting back from that long run?"
Frank pretended to look at Ralph in a guilty way.