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"When everybody is so nice if you give them any show at all, I can't
understand where the grouchers get their grouch," muttered Mickey, as he
hopped from one toe to the other and tried to select the car at the curb
which would be Peter's.
"Hey you!" presently called a voice from one of them. Mickey sent a keen
glance over a boy who had come up and entered the car.
"Straw you!" retorted Mickey, landing on the curb in a flying leap.
"Is your name Mickey?" inquired the boy.
"Yep. Is your father's name Peter?" asked Mickey.
"Yep. And mine is Peter too. So to avoid two Peters I am Junior. Come on
in 'til the folks come."
Formalities were over. Mickey laughed as he entered the car and
straightway began an investigation of its machinery. Now any boy is proud
to teach another something he wants to know and does not, so by the time
the car was thoroughly explained any listener would have thought them
acquaintances from birth.
"Hurry!" cried Junior when his parents came. "I want to get home with
Mickey.


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