“Nope. I’m not goin’ home,” declared Andy. “Mom knows where I am, and I am goin’ to stay in town till the two o’clock trolley comes in.”
“To meet the Ram and the Schenk?” asked Jack, laughing. “Then at least take this change, and look the town over. Buy some ice cream and—a brick bat or two to have ready when——”
“There’s a fellow I know,” interrupted Andy, and taking the proffered coin, he was soon lost to Jack, and to the business of detecting the detectives.
[CHAPTER XIII—GOING AND COMING]
The weather was uncertain—it might rain, but there were cobwebs on the grass, which meant “clear.” But the sun did not come out, and it was past noon.
These unfavorable conditions were unusual on a day when the motor girls were to make a run, but Bess, Belle and Cora were almost too busy with their preparations to pay much heed to the possibility of rain while en route.
The start was to be made at two o’clock, and the chimes on the dining room mantel of the Kimball home had just warned Cora that half the hour between one and two had gone by.
“We take no note of time but from its flight,” quoted Cora to herself, hurrying through the room to crowd a last few things into her motor trunk. “I wonder where Jack is?”
At that very moment Jack’s inevitable whistle was heard, and the next, the boy was in the room, looking as deliciously lazy as ever, in that way so peculiar to boys who have a great deal to do at the time; the science of which studied indifference is absolutely impossible for a girl to fathom.
“Why this fluttering fluster, sis?” he asked, crumbling deeper in the leather-cushioned chair. “You will positively get overheated and ruin—your—complex—ion!” This last was drawled out with the most aggravating yawn.