They took his half-plug of chewing tobacco and a ten-cent stick-pin from his tie, and afterwards made him crank his car and climb back into the seat and go on.

He went--with the throttle wide open and the little car loping down the boulevard like a scared pup.
"Watch him went!" shrieked one they called Hen, doubling himself together in a spasm of laughter.
"'He was--here--when we _started_, b-but he was--gone--when we got th'ough!'" chanted another, crudely imitating a favorite black-faced comedian.
Jack, one arm thrown across the wheel, leaned out and looked back, grinning under the red band stretched across the middle of his face.
"Ah, pile in!" he cried, squeezing his gum between his teeth and starting the engine.

"He might come back with a cop." That tickled them more than ever.

They could hardly get back into the car for laughing.

"S-o-m-e little bandits!--what ?" they asked one another over and over again.
"S-o-m-e little bandits is--right!" the approving answer came promptly.
"S-o-m-e _time_, bo, s-o-m-e _time!_" a drink-solemn voice croaked in a corner of the big seat.
Thus did the party of Christian Endeavorers return sedately from their trip to Mount Wilson..