“Gosh, I never made a speech in my life!” Spider groaned from the rear seat. “I’d just go right down through the floor.”
“Our floors are made of good old Douglas fir—not a chance,” the doctor grinned. “You’ll have to stand right up and show ’em how good Massachusetts is.”
“Poor old Massachusetts,” said Bennie. “She’s got a bum chance to make a hit with us representing her. Oh, golly, what’ll I do?”
“I guess you’d better be thinking of something to say as we go along. I was going to stop so we could pick some real Oregon cherries on the way, but maybe I’d better not. You’ll need to keep your alleged minds on your speeches.”
Bennie and Spider looked at each other and groaned.
“Honest, Uncle Billy, I think this is a real nice climate,” said Bennie.
“Ha! nothing doing! You can’t get around me that way. Besides, they are probably cooking the luncheon already. The invitations are all out.”
“Has old Dumplin’ got to make a speech, too?”
“Oh, no,” said the doctor. “He’s a native, not a distinguished visitor from the East.”
“We’ll be extinguished visitors by the time it’s over,” Spider said.