“Go around by the station, Higgins,” ordered Gerald. “That’s the longest way,” he added gleefully, for Dan’s benefit. Dan felt that he ought to insist on being taken back the quickest and shortest way, but he didn’t want to offend Gerald, and, besides, the idea of lengthening the drive was far from distasteful to him. The big car skimmed its way down the immaculate gravel roadway, past the gardener’s lodge, through the big stone gateway and out onto the village street. It was the nearest thing to flying that Dan had ever experienced, never having tried tobogganing, and he was quite content to lean back against the yielding cushions and just watch things whizz by. But Gerald demanded conversation. It was an event in his life to have someone of about his own age to talk with and he made the most of it. Around the station they flew, with a musical peal of the chimes, and darted along the straight stretch of road toward the school. Above the Yardley buildings dozed in the forenoon sunlight and Dan felt as though he was going home. Then came the winding ascent and the engine took on a gruffer tone as the big car charged upward. Then a quick turn to the right at the top of the hill, a sudden jarring of brakes and the car stood, quivering and chugging in front of Clarke.
Dan leaped out, shook hands with Gerald, nodded almost gratefully to the chauffeur, who touched his cap smilingly in response, promised again faithfully to see Gerald on Friday and then ran up the steps. As the door closed behind him he heard the automobile taking the hill again. When he opened the door of his room Tubby looked around from the window at which he was standing with a sardonic grin.
“I suppose you think you’re a blooming hero,” said Tubby.
[CHAPTER XIV]
DAN JOINS A CONSPIRACY
The story of Dan’s adventure had preceded him up Yardley Hill, and when he reached the locker room in the gymnasium at a few moments before half-past eleven there was a murmur of interest from the fellows who were getting into their gymnasium suits. Several of the fellows Dan knew well enough to speak to and these greeted him heartily, while one or two others, who had never before accorded him more than nods, now went out of their ways to call him by name. Joe Chambers, one of the editors of the Scholiast, had to have the story of the affair while Dan was changing his clothes.
“This isn’t for publication, Vinton,” he assured him seriously, “but—”
“Well, I should hope not!” laughed Dan. “If you go and put anything about it in your little old paper I’ll sue you for libel.”
“No, but go on and tell about it,” begged Chambers. Dan glanced rather embarrassedly about the little circle which had collected.