“Hold on!” called the other. “I didn’t mean to be haughty. But I’ve been stuck here since six o’clock and I don’t know yet what the trouble is. That’s enough to make a man rather peevish, isn’t it?” He laughed grudgingly. He was about twenty-one or -two years old, with a good-looking, if at present not over clean, face, and a nice voice.
“I suppose so,” answered Chub. “You’ve had your supper though, haven’t you?”
“Yes, I’ve had that.”
“Well, we haven’t. And we’ve been chasing around the country for an hour and a half on foot. And we’re tired and hungry. I imagine we’re entitled to a little peevishness too, eh?”
“That’s so,” said the other. “Where are you going?”
“No one knows,” said Chub. “We’re just walking along this road in the hope that some day we’ll come to a place where we can get something to eat. What do you think the chances are?”
“Well, you’d do better if you went the other way. You won’t find a hotel or a store nearer than five miles in this direction.”
Dick groaned.
“I wish this old thing would go,” continued the automobilist. “Then I’d help you out. I suppose you don’t know anything about these things?” His glance ranged over the three faces.