He glanced out of the window and saw that it was light outside. The early
morning sun shone on the bare limbs of the trees and made them glisten.
Here and there a bud could be seen almost ready to burst its shell and
Bob rejoiced to see signs of the coming of spring and summer. He was not
happy, however, for the loss of the car weighed him down and oppressed
him. Even the awakening beauties of nature did not cheer him up and that
was unusual in Bob's case.
A few moments later he was fully dressed except for his shoes. He held
them in one hand, and in his stocking feet slipped out of his room and
stole downstairs. He opened the front door carefully and then sat down on
the steps to put on his shoes. As he busied himself a bicycle passed
along the street in front of the house, and Bob recognized the rider as
Frank Wernberg.
"What's he doing out at this time of day?" muttered Bob angrily. He sat
motionless and as Frank did not look toward the house he decided that he
had not been seen. Bob yawned, rubbed his eyes sleepily, and stretched.
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