"No, just on a tour," Dick said.
"Oh, then you're going to cook over an open fire?"
"No, we're going to cook it right in the auto," the young autoist said.
"Ha! ha!" laughed the man. "Joking; eh? Well, I know you auto fellows have some new wrinkles, but I didn't think you were up to that. Going to broil the steak on your over-heated engine, I suppose, and make coffee with the hot water from your radiator? Ha! ha!"
"Not exactly," replied Dick. "Though that might be done. No, we have a stove of our own," and he showed the man the little electrical apparatus in the rear of the enclosed tonneau, on which a good meal could be prepared.
And the boys had just finished their culinary operations and were now enjoying the fruits of their labors. They were in a secluded place, and the day was all that could be desired. The little table had been let down from the roof, and the three sat about it, laughing and joking.
Farmers and others passing along the highway paused to look in some astonishment, not only at the big car, which was of a type and size seldom seen, but at the boys themselves, who seemed to be taking their ease in regular Gypsy fashion, yet in a style never approached by the dark-skinned nomads.
"Some class to this," remarked Paul, as he passed his plate for more steak and bacon.
"I should say yes," agreed Innis. "I say, old boy, you're not going to take that egg; are you?"
"Why not, I'd like to know?" retorted Paul, pausing in the act of helping himself to a nicely browned one, nestling amid a pile of crisp bacon.