“You’re young Merriwell, ain’t you? I seen that game yesterday, by thunder! Is it you who wants to get a car?”
“I want to go over to Orton and back,” said Merry, “if your car’s for rent.”
“For rent? To you?” A wide grin came over the man’s face. “Say, Merriwell, you couldn’t rent no car off’n me, not if you was to offer me a cold million dollars!”
“Eh!” Merry looked at him in astonishment. “What do you mean?”
“Anybody that lays over Colonel Carson like you did yesterday, son, can have my car when he wants it, see? No, don’t do any hollering. I won’t take no pay, except for gas and the chauffeur. Just expenses. You’ll have to get back by noon, though. I only got the one car, and it’s engaged for the afternoon.”
Finding that the man was absolutely earnest in his refusal to take money, Chip assented.
“We’ll be back as soon as we can reach Orton and turn around,” he said, getting into the car. “And I’m much obliged to you, sir!”
“Pleasure’s all mine, son,” returned the other, with a grand air.
Clancy was drowsily looking out of the window. His eyes had just opened, and he had not yet observed the absence of his chum.
“Wake up and take a look at things, you lazy----”
Clan turned over to give Merry a punch, then suddenly sat up.
He noticed for the first time that his chum’s clothes had disappeared, as well as Chip himself. Then he turned toward the window, hearing a church bell ringing sweetly across the valley, and noticed the maturity of the morning.
“Jumping whippoorwills! I must have overslept a whole lot----”
At that moment there came a sudden, furious knocking on the door. Clancy paused, half out of bed, and poised a pillow to fling as the door opened.
“Come in!” he yelled. “I’m not deaf. Come in, you imitation of a real man! You don’t fool me, Chip Merriwell----Wow! Get out o’ here!”
Clancy had thought that it was his chum, but as the door opened wide his voice shot up to a shrill yell. For there, looking in with rolling eyes, was one of the two negresses who acted as waitresses and bell boys at the hotel.
“Get out o’ here!” shrilled Clan, pulling the bedclothes around him. “Can’t you hear? Shut that door! What d’you think I am, a moving-picture show?”
The door shut. From the outside came the voice of the startled negress: