Bennie and Spider shouted with joy at this, and the garage man looked a little surprised.
“Well, that went big!” he said.
“Uncle Bill didn’t tip you the wink in time,” Bennie answered. “He’s just been telling us it never rains in Oregon.”
“Sorry I crabbed your game, Doc,” the man laughed. “Didn’t know these scouts weren’t native web-feet.”
“They’ll not see any more rain till they get back to Portland,” the doctor said, quite seriously.
The garage man winked solemnly at Bennie, who grinned back.
“Well, Uncle Bill, we sure have got one on you now,” Bennie laughed, as they drove on. “Eh, Spider?”
“Kind of looks so,” Spider had to admit.
“The sun will be coming out at Salem, and this is the last rain you’ll see, except maybe a thunder shower or two,” Uncle Billy persisted. “And now, just for that, I’ll tell you something else. We’ll get to Salem—that’s the State capital—in time for lunch. The Boy Scouts of Salem are going to give us the luncheon, not on your account, but because you are with me. You two boys will have to make speeches. Good, long speeches, too, not just ‘Glad to be here.’ Got one on me, have you? Take that!”
“Aw, quit your kiddin’,” Bennie cried. “Not really, Uncle Bill?”