occasion; and he certainly was--as
Lance Darby said from the head automobile--"a sight for gods and men!"

Prettyman Sweet wore a white flannel coat and trousers, with a very fine
line of blue running through the goods lengthwise. He wore a canvas hat
and canvas shoes, cut low to show open-work crimson silk socks--oh, they
were dreams of the hosier's art! He wore a flowing crimson tie, too, and
around his waist, instead of an ordinary belt, he wore a new-fangled,
knitted, crimson sash-belt, the like of which none of the boys of
Central High had ever beheld before.

"Oh, Purt! where did you get it?" cried Lance Darby.

"You're fixed up to flag a freight, with all that red on you," said
Chet.

"And where _did_ you get that gorgeous sash, Mr. Sweet?" demanded
"Bobby" Hargrew, who was a tease by nature, and had the sharpest tongue
of any girl at Central High.

"Oh, now, Miss Clara," said Purt Sweet, carefully climbing into the seat
directly behind the twins. "This is the very latest thing--weally! I
sent clear to New York for it. You see, it's not so stiff and hard
looking as a leather belt. This--er--lends a softness to the whole
costume that is--er--quite unobtainable with a belt."

"Oh, gee!" gasped Bobby. "It's soft enough, all right, all right!" and
the rest laughed as they piled into the machine.

Purt sat with his back to the twins, and was explaining to the girl
beside him that he did not mind riding backward at all. Bobby was still
on the ground, and as Dora and Dorothy looked down at her they saw the
mischievous one suddenly reach up her thumb and finger and pick at a
little frayed place upon the edge of Purt's beautiful sash.

The thing was knitted loosely of some kind of mercerized cotton, and
when Bobby seized the end of a broken strand the sash began to unravel
with marvelous rapidity. She grinned up at the twins delightedly, and
continued to pull on the thread.

"All aboard, young folks!" cried Mr. Purcell. "You ready forward, there,
Mr. Chetwood?"

"All right," returned Chet, tripping his self-starter.

Mr. Purcell stooped to crank up his big machine. Bobby, her eyes
dancing, also stooped beside the front wheel for a moment, and then
whisked into her seat, facing Purt Sweet. But the twins saw what she had
done. She had fastened the end of the crimson thread to the head of a
bolt upon the wheelbox.

"All right, Bennie!" said Mr. Purcell, stepping back and waving his
hand. The big machine began