Bobby and the twins denied that they had had anything to do with Philip and his appearance.
“I did see him under the seat asleep this morning when we were out in the garage,” admitted Twaddles. “I guess he didn’t wake up till now.”
“Well, he’ll have to walk back with you, that’s all,” grumbled Sam. “Your father doesn’t want a dog around when he’s thinking about business. What is it, Bobby?”
“There’s a queer looking stone,” said Bobby, who had been pulling at Sam’s sleeve to attract his attention. “See it down there? Slow up, 55 and you will. There! Let me get out and get it for my collection?”
Sam slowed down the car, and looked with interest at the spot to which Bobby pointed. Then he laughed.
“That’s a lump of coal,” he announced. “Fell off a heavy load, I guess, on its way to the foundry. Collecting stones, are you, Bobby?”
“Not exactly,” said Bobby. “You see I heard about a boy who went around cracking pebbles and stones and sometimes he found very valuable ones. Maybe I will, too. Anyway I like to crack ’em.”
“I see,” said Sam, looking at his watch. “Well, we’ll have to hustle a little to make it by two o’clock. Hold your hats, youngsters.”
Sam delighted to let the car out occasionally, and for the next few minutes they whirled steadily through a cloud of dust. Then the iron gates of the foundry, of which Father Blossom was the owner and where he had his office, loomed up ahead of them, and Sam put on the brakes.
“Coming right away,” called Father Blossom, as the car rolled past the office window, where 56 he was working at a roll-top desk, and stopped before the door.