he perched upon the roadster's door and led a whistling chorus which all voted delightful. "The Four Horsemen of the Puckered Lips," announced Pink Davis in a shout to spellbound spectators.
As they passed through towns they bared their heads and bowed to right and left graciously, like Presidential candidates. Whenever a pretty girl was sighted they did more; they stopped the car, rose to their feet, and emitted a solemn cheer with three long "Momma's!" on the end. Once they were halted by an irate motor-cycle policeman, whom Pink soothed by slipping a flat brown bottle with a label interesting if true into his pocket.
"What did you do that for?" demanded Dopey as they drove away, waving back in a friendly fashion. "We could have talked him out of it, without shedding a pint of our hearts' blood."
"Yes," said Jock, "and besides, some day you'll get into trouble that way, Pink. You've got to remember there are a few honest cops in the world. Suppose he had happened to be a prohibition enforcement officer or something—what then?"
"Nothing then," replied Pink calmly. "That bottle didn't have a thing in it but water."
The total casualties of the trip were one dog, one—snake, and fourteen chickens. Of these, only the snake received proper obsequies; he was removed from the dust and entwined in state about the motor-meter.
They had one accident. From a hidden road running perpendicular to the highway, a small tin automobile laden—nay, jammed—with humans, hopped out at them unexpectedly. There was a slight jarring sensation, and Dopey and Bill, gazing back with interest as they dashed around a curve, reported that the small tin automobile was reclining on its side against
