“Bet you can’t, either.”
“Your remark is irrelevant, as the lawyers say,” laughed Victor. “I never yet felt a bit nervous in the water.”
“Where did you ever paddle about, I’d like to know?”
“Oh, in a tub.”
“Fellows, we’re coming to Lincoln Park, one of the finest in Chicago,” laughed Charlie.
“Nothing like having your own sightseeing car,” observed Dave.
“I guess the people around here think they are seeing sights,” giggled Victor. “With those glasses on, Somers, you look like the speed king himself. Just wait till I get my hands on the throttle—if there’s a mile of straight road in front I’ll drive her up to sixty.”
“Huh! This car has to go all the way to Wisconsin,” sniffed Tom. “We don’t want to have to telegraph any scrap iron dealer to hurry out and shovel up the pieces—eh, Bob?”
“Eh, Bob!” repeated Victor, “eh, Bob! How many times a day do you get that off? The great chauffeur and his brave passenger, Clifton! Let Charlie take the helm. He’ll drive slowly enough to suit you.”
Tom’s eyes gleamed ominously.