“Oh, goodness!” snickered Cranny; “that’s the second time. Fellows, form an arbitration board, quick.”
“Some fireworks’ll start when Willie gets back,” predicted Sam Randall.
Toward evening Mr. Beaumont’s ward, hot, dusty and tired, returned. But the expected “grouch” was lacking. Indeed, the boys had never seen him in a better humor.
“Don’t you feel well?” asked Cranny, with apparent solicitude.
“Sure! Why, Cran?”
“Oh, nothing! What’s the news?”
“Say, Cran, I saw the balloon that goes up in the air.”
“You did? Why, that must be a new kind o’ a balloon!” laughed Cranny.
“Major What’s-his-name took me all through it.”
“An’ the gas didn’t even try to push you out?”