"Meppy dose vas der fellers, Matt," said Carl, "aber dey vore vite caps ofer der faces und I don'd vas aple to see oof dey vas."
"Sercomb and his pals were all motorists," mused Matt. "But what good will it do for them to try to keep me out of the Borden cup-race? I've got a chance to make a record by going into that race, and I'm going to get into it, if I can."
"Sure you vas going indo der race, bard, und dose sore-headts von't be aple to keep you oudt."
"I'm not going to back-water for them."
"Dot's you," chuckled Carl. "You vill be dwice as keen to ged in der race now as you vas pefore. Dot's der vay Modor Matt iss pud oop! Py shinks, you vas der pest all-orundt modor feller vat efer habbened——"
"Oh, splash!" laughed Matt. "Use the soft pedal, Carl."
"Py chimineddy, I mean vat I say!" persisted Carl. "You know more aboudt modors in a year as some odder fellers know in a minid, und——"
"I guess that's right."
"Misder Domlinson say dot you peen a crack racer, und dot you ged oudt oof a car all der speed vat vas in it."
"Well, hang onto your bouquets for a while and let's see that letter the white-caps gave you to deliver to me."