“You promised we were going quail-shooting this year.”
“By gosh, that’s so! But I’m frightfully rushed jist now, son.”
“You’re working too hard, Dad; Aunt Emma says you’re putting a strain on your kidneys, the doctor has told you so.”
“Does he recommend a quail diet?”
Bunny knew by Dad’s grin that he was going to make some concession. “Let’s take our camping things,” the boy pleaded, “and when you get through at Antelope, let’s come home by the San Elido valley.”
“The San Elido! But son, that’s fifty miles out of our way!”
“They say there’s no end of quail there, Dad.”
“Yes, but we can get quail a lot nearer home.”
“I know, Dad; but I’ve never been there, and I want to see it.”
“But what made you hit on that place?”