“Perfectly swell!” seconded Tom.
“Maybe, though, he wouldn’t let Tommy and me go,” objected Bob, “because we’ll be here for the long trip.”
“Well, don’t go on the long trip, then,” suggested Nelson. “Come to ‘St. Louis, Louis’ with me.”
“By ginger! I’d like to, all right. I’ll see what Clint says. If he makes that objection, I’ll tell him I’m thinking of cutting the long trip out this year; and maybe my folks would let me go to the fair.”
“Still, there’s Tommy; what about him?” asked Dan.
“What do you think I care about the trip, if you fellows aren’t gu-gu-gu-going?”
“Noble youth!” said Bob. “Who’ll ask Clint?” Silence ensued.
“Whoever asks him,” said Dan presently, “had better wait until he’s sort of forgotten about that painting affair.”
“Maybe,” answered Bob, “but I don’t believe he holds that against us; Clint isn’t that sort. When a thing’s done with, it’s done with for him. I don’t mind asking. You leave it to me, and I’ll wait until I find him feeling his best.”