Tim Reardon grinned. "Not for Jack," he said.
"Say," asked the girl, "what's Witham mad with those boys about? Why did he send 'em out of the hotel the other night?"
"Oh, that's a long story," replied Tim Reardon; "I can't tell you all about it. Witham used to keep the hotel down to Southport, and he was always against the boys, and now and then somebody played a joke on him. Then, when his hotel burned, he thought the boys were to blame; but Jack Harvey found the man that set the fire, and so made the colonel look foolish in court."
But at this moment a yawn that sounded like a subdued roar indicated that Colonel Witham was rousing from his nap. He stretched himself, opened his eyes blankly, and perceived the boy and girl.
"Well," he exclaimed, "you're here, eh? Wonder you didn't come in like a wild Indian, too. What's the matter?"
"Got a puncture," said Little Tim.
The colonel, having had the refreshment of his sleep, was in a better humour. He was a little interested in the bicycle.
"Queer what new-fangled ideas they get," he said. "That's not much like what I used to ride."
Little Tim looked up, surprised.
"Why, did you use to ride a wheel?" he asked.