"I suppose because my uncle thinks he has a right to the papers."
"Maybe so," agreed Paul. "But say, if we're going to reach Plattsville by night, we'd better get a move on."
They had come to a halt a little way out of the town, not far from Buffalo, where they had bought a new road map, and secured the envelope into which the legal papers were slipped. They had abandoned the plan of going to Hazelton, when they found out the trick that had been played on them, and were now counting on making Plattsville in time to stay just outside it over night. They did not travel after dark, unless it was to reach some predetermined point of their journey, and on this occasion, as there was no good hotel in Plattsville, they had voted to sleep in the big auto.
Once more they started off, Paul driving, while Dick and Innis overhauled the stores in the "kitchen," in preparation for getting a meal in case they did not find a good restaurant in the next town.
"The beauty of this way of traveling," said Innis, "is that you can do as you please. If you want a course dinner you can get it—if not in one town, then in another. Or if you want simple grub, it's here ready for us."
"That's right," agreed Paul. "It was mighty white of Dick to ask us along."
"I'm sure I was only too glad to have you," said the latter. "I wouldn't have gone alone for a farm; would we, Grit?" and the bulldog barked his answer.
"I guess you're hungry," went on Dick. "Innis, open some of that canned chicken."
"What! Are you going to eat so near supper time?"