"You vill be vearing shdripes, dot's vat."
"By-by, Wienerwurst!"
Carl gurgled and tried to get out of the car. Matt grabbed him and threw him back in his seat.
"Never mind, old chap," he said. "You're well rid of that fellow, and you ought to be thankful."
"I don'd like dot Wienerwurst pitzness," grunted Carl. "He vas rupping it in too mooch, py shinks. Don'd he vas der vorst pad egg vat you efer see?"
Just then Gregory switched on the spark, and the Red Flier glided into the branch road with the town well in sight.
[CHAPTER XVI.]
IN ASH FORK.
Once more the Red Flier found shelter in the hotel barn, and once more James Q. Tomlinson was quartered in the hotel. But, of course, it was a different James Q. Tomlinson.