During the next five minutes he allowed his friends to see how unhappy they had made him, and then began grumbling once more.
“We might jest as well go home, an’ a good deal better’n to set ’round here. What fun is there in this? I’d rather be up to City Hall Park where the fellers are, an’ besides, see how much money I’m losin’! All this afternoon’s business gone for the sake of hangin’ on to an old sidewalk down to Coney Island.”
Bill continued his complaints in a similar fashion for a long while, without receiving any reply, and then Bob’s patience was exhausted.
“See here,” he said sharply. “Tom an’ me couldn’t help this, an’ I don’t reckon Josiah means to do anything out of the way; but if you feel bad at havin’ to stay here a little while, s’pose you start off by yourself?”
“I don’t wanter go without the crowd; but I’d rather be at home.”
“Here’s your ticket. We’re bound to wait for Josiah if he don’t get back till mornin’, ’cause all we came here for was to give him a good time, an’ I only hope he’s havin’ it.”
“I reckon he is, an’ don’t care anything ’bout what we have to do,” Bill grumbled, but he did not take the proffered ticket.
“You don’t s’pose he’s got lost, do you?” Tom asked, an expression of alarm coming over his face, and Bob cried as he leaped to his feet:—
“That’s jest what’s the matter! They’ve gone off somewhere, an’ don’t know how to get back.”
“Then we’ll have a fine time huntin’ for ’em all night! I guess I’d better go home,” Bill said, and without hesitation Bob handed him the ticket once more.