But Gerald refused to answer that. He only laughed.
“Huh, you fellows thought you were pretty smart, didn’t you? I was on to you all the time.”
“I might have suspected as much,” said Dan, thoughtfully, “when I found you’d packed your trunk. It isn’t like you to do anything of that sort until the last moment.”
“Where are we going, Dan?” asked Gerald. “Broadwood?”
“Yes.”
“What are we going to do there? What’s in the bundle that Tom’s carrying?”
“You wait and see,” was the answer. “We’re going to have some fun with Broadwood—that’s all.”
“Think you might tell me,” said Gerald, aggrievedly. “I’m an S. P. M., ain’t I?”
“You’re a butter-in, that’s what you are,” replied Dan, grimly; “and you’ll just wait and find out, my son.”
“I’ll ask Arthur; he’ll tell me.”