"He's a dandy, he is!" commented Specs. "Back before you fellows won that basketball game for him, I heard him say once that we Scouts weren't interested in anything except ourselves, but I notice he never puts himself out for anybody."
"Give him a fair show, Specs," Bunny suggested gently. "Remember, he isn't here to speak for himself."
"He'll be speaking for himself in two seconds," said Bonfire, pointing down the street toward a scarlet motor car which at that moment was tearing along near the corner.
Barely braking enough to turn without skidding, Royal Sheffield drove the automobile up the driveway to the barn; then, a moment later, lounged down the path to the Scouts.
"Make it fast, Sheff," warned Bunny. "We have just time to catch the train, not a second more. Throw your stuff on the dray. All right, we 're off. How about it, Mr. Langer? Can we all pile on your wagon?"
Mr. Langer nodded. Promptly, without waiting for the captain of the team to decide the matter, Sheffield scrambled up to the driver's seat.
"I notice you're making yourself comfortable!" snapped Specs, balancing uneasily on the side of the dray.
"Is that so!" Sheffield flung back carelessly. "Well, I'm following your lead. I notice you fellows have been hanging around to ride to the station."
"Hanging around!" Specs raised his voice angrily. "Why, the only reason we stayed behind was to—"
"Better cut it, Specs!" Bunny said decisively.