"You did?" he says eagerly. "Well, that's fine. Thanks awfully!"
Honest to Coolidge, I didn't know Royal was the perpetrator of that literary outrage any more than I know how to make a clock. I'm no Dumb Dora, but seldom remember authors' names, though Francis Shakespeare's is familiar. But I got out of that jam nicely, didn't I?
At any rate, now that Royal's horrible secret was out, we had much to talk about. He had been on his way to board a train for Synthetic when the bumper of my car took his mind off his appointment. Royal was scheduled to assist Gordon Daft in the filming of his book, and when I heard that sensational news I devoted the bulk of the time to boosting Hazel to him. Before we called it a night and dismissed school, he had faithfully promised to fatten Hazel's part if it was in any way possible.
A week arrived and departed as weeks will and then Jerry Murphy and Pete Kift got their vacations. Both boys are set and rarin' to go to Synthetic, Maine, where Daft's actors are doing their stuff on Pete's farm. In spite of their previous sad experience, each of these first-class half-wits told me he was going to try and talk himself into a part in "My Wife's Husband."
"Why don't you check out of this drum and come with us to Synthetic, Kid?" invites Pete. "You'll get
