tener. Lee, with a part of the Swallow in his hand to show
Bill, had followed them in time to overhear the conversation concerning
himself, but he quickly drew back and returned to the automobile.

"Good boy, Billy!" he said softly to himself. Then with a dark look
coming into his face, "So you can't trust an Indian, can you? Ha ha! I
wonder what we had better do about that?"

CHAPTER III

Frank Anderson found no time to invent a scheme that would put the
Swallow into his hands because two days later on a bright Saturday
morning, Frank heard a silvery little siren tooting under his window,
and looked out to see the Swallow below and Bill in businesslike
goggles.

"Hey!" called Bill joyfully. "Want to come along and show me Lawton? Dad
and mother are coming in for dinner to-night, and we can stay in all day
and see the sights, then meet them and have dinner with them. Dad sets
up a dandy dinner, I will say. Hurry up!" He tooted the siren again
gaily, and Frank bolted in search of his mother.

He found her getting ready for a bridge luncheon, and she scarcely
listened when he told her the plan for the day. She managed to say yes,
however, when she understood the part Major Sherman was going to play,
and drifted out of the room leaving Frank to yell down from the window
that he was coming and to embark on a more or less thorough toilet. He
looked very smooth and clean, however, ten minutes later, when he hopped
into the Swallow and settled himself beside Bill.

Frank pointed out the various places of interest as they went along, and
before they knew that the miles had been passed, they were entering the
outskirts of the village. It was a typical Western village: low, squat,
unpainted sheds of houses, with sandy front yards, and heaps of refuse
lying about.

As the boys picked their way along, they turned a corner into a better
part of the town. Here the houses were better; but on the whole very
shabby. The influence of the oil boom was being felt, however, and here
and there immense and showy residences were being built.

They then turned into the main street, a very wide, splendidly paved
thoroughfare crowded with automobiles, carriages, mule teams, saddle
horses, and indeed every possible kind of conveyance.

Frank noted with pride that wherever they went the little Swallow
created a great commotion. People stopped to stare and exclaim. Bill,
who was busy guiding his little beauty among the larger vehic