"Well, wouldn't you like to do that again?"
"Yes."
"And be a regular microbe?"
"Yes."
Steve looked at his watch.
"Well, that's lucky," he said. "It happens to be exactly the right time
for starting out to be one. That's curious, ain't it?"
"Yes."
"I've got a pal--friend, you know----"
"Is he a germ?"
"Sure. He's waiting for me now in an automobile in the park----"
"Why?"
"Because I asked him to. He owns a garage. Place where automobiles
live, you know. I asked him to bring out a car and wait around near by,
because I might be taking a pal of mine--that's you--for a ride into
the country to-night. Of course, you don't have to come if you don't
want to. Only it's mighty nice out there. You can spend all to-morrow
rolling about in the grass and listening to the birds. I shouldn't
wonder if we couldn't borrow a farmer's kid for you to play with.
There's lots of them around. He should show you the best time you've
had in months."
William Bannister's eyes gleamed. The finer points of the scheme were
beginning to stand out before him with a growing clarity.
"Would I have to take my bib?" he asked excitedly.
Steve uttered a scornful laugh.
"No, _sir_! We don't wear bibs out there."
As far as William Bannister was concerned, this appeared to settle it.
Of all the trials of his young life he hated most his bib.
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