It was 11:25 when the boys struck the wagon road, paralleling the track, and 11:28 when they encountered a small boy with a fishing pole over his shoulder.
Was this the road to Belden? The small boy couldn't be sure; Belden was "a awful long ways"; maybe the road ran to Belden and maybe it didn't.
"We'll find out soon enough," said Bunny. "How about motor cars? Does anybody around here own an automobile?"
The small boy nodded vigorously. "You see that peddler's wagon up the road there, where the horse is standing under the tree? Well, right on the other side of the road, up a piece, there's Mr. Jenkins' house. He's got an automobile—a awful big one."
"Does he ever rent it?"
"Hold on," Bi protested; "it takes real money to rent a car, and I'll bet there isn't more than three dollars in the crowd."
"We can pay for the gas and oil, anyhow, and when we get to Belden Horace Hibbs will lend us the rest. The question is, does he rent it?"
"He takes people out sometimes," admitted the small boy.
"Then the next stop is Jenkins'," Bunny announced. "Bi, you had better act as treasurer and handle the money. Here's twenty-eight cents; that leaves me without anything."
"Better say 'busted'," put in slangy Specs, "so we'll know what you mean."