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"You see, in Songbird's eyes, Minnie Sanderson is just the nicest girl " "Now stop it, Tom, can't you!" pleaded poor Songbird, growing decidedly red in the face. "Miss Sanderson is only a friend of mine, and you know it."
The stroke of a lifetime! "God! What a row there'll be; but it will take a month to find out that he has not skipped. I will be in hiding; but to-morrow I must face this Magyar fool. What shall I tell her?" Mr. August Meyer tramped the deck alone until he hit upon a plausible explanation of the awakening which would arouse the Magyar songbird's gravest suspicions.
"The family is surely getting together," remarked Dick, after another handshaking had been indulged in. "Songbird, do you warble as much as ever?" "You can wager a sweet potato he does," said George Granbury. "Nothing short of a cyclone will ever stop Songbird's warbling, eh, Songbird?"
"Well, if I can do anything at all, let me know," answered Songbird's uncle. "I am rather busy now, but as soon as I am at leisure, I will call and talk the matter over with you." Inside of half an hour the two detectives from headquarters arrived. They were bright, sharp-eyed individuals, and they got down to business without delay.
Two were just going to bite me, but I got rid of 'em!" "Don't be afraid, Songbird," came from Tom. "Why don't you study them and write a poem about them?" "A poem about spiders! Ugh!" And Songbird's face showed his disgust. "Der spider vos a pusy little animal," observed Hans. "He sphins his veb und attends strictly to business.
"Dick Rover deserves the best girl in the world," was Songbird's conclusion. "He is the finest fellow I know, barring none." "I suppose you'll get up a poem about this, Songbird," suggested one of the other students. "Perhaps," was the answer, and the would-be poet smiled in a dreamy fashion.
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