Bob was almost ashamed
of the happiness that welled in his heart. Of course a fellow of
fifteen was too big to be hugged as a general thing, but, somehow,
one's mother was different.
After breakfast he started down town to see about the jitney, met
Joe on the way, and the two boys went on together, talking excitedly
of their preparations.
"Dad says I can have the big car and the garage man will run it,"
Joe informed him gleefully. "Gee, I was never so surprised in my
life. All he said was 'take it, my son, and Heaven grant you never
want it for a worse purpose.' Great old sport, dad is."
"Gee, that's great," said Bob. "Now if we can only find some old bus
that looks as if it will stand up for a mile or two, everything will
be dandy."
After much kicking of tires and anxious examination, the boys did
actually manage to find a Ford machine that promised, with more or
less reservations, to do its duty, and, after engaging it with a
driver for one-thirty that afternoon, they walked importantly from
the shop, much to the amusement of the garage man.
"Fine set of kids," he muttered, shaking his head admiringly as he
returned to the machine that he was repairing. "Always full of pep
and ginger whenever you see 'em. They'll go a long way, those kids
will."
In spite of various gloomy predictions, at one-thirty that afternoon
there was still not a cloud in the sky and the breath of the sun
smote downward almost as hotly as it would in midsummer.
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