Willie gave another of his peculiar little gasps.
“Not stars, after all?” he said. “That’s queer. What are you so mad about, Cranny?”
But Cranny made no answer. He began to see his bright dream slowly fade away; and all on account of Willie’s utter foolishness and stupidity. He resolved that the little office boy should be enlightened regarding the error of his ways, and that immediately.
With his forehead knit into a tremendous frown, the boy presently rose to his feet.
“Want to take a walk, Willie?” he inquired.
“Say, did you ever hear of a chap gettin’ moonstruck?” asked Willie. “It’s shining something awful to-night.”
“That’s more’n you are,” retorted Cranny. “Coming? Good-bye, dad! We won’t be long.”
Once safely outside of hearing distance the big lad began to talk earnestly. He painted the most alluring pictures of life at Circle T Ranch; and poured into Willie’s ears a most glowing account of the Ramblers and their exploits.
“And now don’t tell me you’d miss a dandy chance like this!” he concluded. “Just think of the time we’ll have! Talk it up strong, and the pater’ll stand for our going.”
“Say, Cran, you’re awfully good to me!” said Willie, with suspicious sweetness. “Thanks! But I don’t know that I’m so keen on it. That sounds to me like a pretty rough bunch, anyway.”