“You’re a couple o’ smart ones,” he cried. “My, oh, my! An’ pop talkin’ the way he did! Ha, ha—I can’t get over it—ha, ha!” and Bill Junior, having recovered his breath, immediately lost it again in a paroxysm of mirth. “Oh, my, oh, my, but ain’t I glad that old Dexter got left! It’s the richest thing out; an’ pop talkin’ the way he did! Ha, ha!”
“And you mean,” gasped George, scarcely believing his ears, “that you didn’t come after us to——”
“I’m awful tickled that ye got away—that’s what!” cried Bill Junior, heartily; “an’ I come after ye to tell ye. Ha, ha, but won’t I jist laugh at pop an’ old Dexter? Shake—ye’re a couple o’ smart ones.”
“Bill,” remarked George Clayton, with a sigh of relief, “you’re a regular brick.”
“I should say so,” chimed in Aleck. “Gee, but if I had only known before I broke the quarter mile record. Do you think Dexter will look for us?”
“Sure! That fellow would spend a week lookin’ fur an alley cat, if it got away from him,” said Bill Junior, forcibly.
“Then,” said George, with some alarm, “we’d better get along.”
“I know whar’ the house-boat is, an’ I’m goin’ to tell them fellers to watch out fur ye.”
The three held a brief consultation, and Bill gave them a bit of advice which the boys agreed to accept.
“Well,” said George, with a long breath, as Bill’s figure disappeared around a corner, “did you ever hear of anything to beat it? To think of running right into the very fellow who was looking for me.”