“Oh, pardon me. Here she is. Want the address read, too?”
“Oh, Hike, please read it, if it’s got anything to do with Wibbelty-Wobbelty.”
“Listen:
‘Come to San Francisco at once. Meet me Palace Hotel. Captain Welch in Mexico making trouble at my ranch. Insurrectos. Need help with tetrahedral. Explain when come. Hurry.
‘John Adeler.’”
“Wow!” said Poodle, amazed, and—
“Wow!” roared Hike, in a different tone, wildly excited. “This means a hike on the Hustle. Mexico—insurrectos—night flight—wow!” He grabbed his cap, tossed a time-table to Poodle, and cried, “Please, Pood’, see what’s the next train I get into town. I’m going to see the Headmaster right now, and get leave to—”
“See him at midnight?” howled Poodle. “And permit us to state that there ain’t any trains between midnight and dawn.”
“Gee, that’s so,” mourned Hike. “I was so excited I forgot it was late at all.”
“Yes,” remarked Poodle. “You were some excited. This is that ‘no aeroplaning, no nothing’ that we were just hearing about, ain’t it?”