“Yes, and that if you had followed his advice you could have had her then, without running away from home and facing all sorts of hardships and dangers.”
“No, sir,” exclaimed Roderick firmly. “Gail Holden is not that sort of girl. Uncle Allen forgets that she had to be won—or rather has to be won,” he added, correcting himself when he caught the smile on Whitley’s countenance.
“Well, you won’t forget,” laughed Whitley, “that I stood out of the contest and left the way clear for you. Lucky, though, that the College Widow took the bit between her teeth and bolted, eh, old man?”
“Hush!” whispered Roderick, throwing a warning glance over his shoulder.
“What are you two boys talking about?” asked Gail, with a bright smile from her seat at the back of the tonneau.
“Old college days,” laughed Whitley, as he changed the clutch for a stiff up-grade.
Arriving at Encampment, they found Allen Miller walking nervously up and down the platform in front of the hotel. The red blood in Roderick’s veins surged like fierce hammer strokes, with eagerness to once more grasp the hand of his old guardian.
He hastily excused himself, jumped from the auto and grasped the extended hand of his old guardian. He was soon led away by his uncle Allen, to the parlors of the hotel, to meet his Aunt Lois.
“Oh, I am so glad you brought Roderick here, Allen; for I just knew that I would get all fussed up and cry.
“There, there, Aunt Lois,” said Roderick cheerily, after embracing her warmly, “we are not going to be separated any more,—or, if we are, it will not be for long at any one time. I know the way back to old Keokuk,” said Roderick, laughing and hugging his dear aunt Lois again, “and you and Uncle Allen now know the road out to the Wyoming hills.”