CHAPTER IIAND SO HAS WILLARD
That ought to have settled the matter; but, although Tom, refusing comfort from his mother, went to bed telling himself that it was going to be the paper mill after all, somehow the next morning brought renewed hope. While he was dressing he tried to think of some way in which to get hold of that automobile, and, although he hadn’t succeeded by breakfast time, he nevertheless went downstairs to the morning meal in high spirits. There’s something about a fresh, dew-sprinkled June morning that makes a chap believe he can do almost anything if he tries hard enough!
When Tom started out of the house he was surprised to see Willard Morris leaning over the gate.
“I’ve been waiting for you,” announced Willard. “If we have time let’s stop and look at that buzz-wagon you were talking about yesterday. Will you?”
“Yes; but I guess there isn’t much use, Will. I spoke to father, and he said he couldn’t afford it. At least, he says he couldn’t afford to pay a hundred andtwenty-five. He might pay fifty, but he’s afraid I might not make a go of it.”
“What did he say?” asked Willard.
Tom narrated the conversation of the evening before, and Willard nodded once or twice, as he heard Mr. Benton’s objections.
“Well, maybe he’s right, Tom. There isn’t any sure thing about it, and that’s so, but he loses sight of the fact that, even if the scheme didn’t work, you’d still have the automobile, and ought to get as much for it as you gave; that is, if it’s as good as you say it is. Anyway, we’ll look it over.”
They did. Mr. Saunders was glad to have them see it, and expatiated on its merits for ten minutes, while Willard walked around it and viewed it carefully. “Was you thinking of buying it yourself?” asked Mr. Saunders.
“Oh, I don’t know,” replied Willard. “Maybe. I’m sort of looking for a bargain in an automobile.” Tom stared at him in surprise. “But I think you’re asking a whole lot for this thing. Why, it would cost a hundred dollars, probably, to put that car in shape!”
“What if it did? That would be only two hundred and fifty, and where could you get an automobile for that money?”
“Two hundred and fifty?” repeated Willard. “Oh, I see; you’re figuring on getting a hundred and fiftyfor it.” He shook his head, and felt disparagingly of a worn tire. “I wouldn’t give that much. Maybe I’d offer you a hundred, but I’d want to have someone look over the engine first.”
Mr. Saunders snorted with disgust. “A hundred! Why, that thing cost me two hundred in trade! A hundred! Pshaw! I’d sell her to the junkman first!”
“Maybe that would be better,” said Willard agreeably. “Well, perhaps I’ll come in again. I’ll think it over. If I were you I’d have someone wash it so you could see what it was like underneath the dirt.”
Mr. Saunders received the suggestion with a shrug, and the boys hurried out. “What did you mean by saying you were thinking of buying it?” asked Tom curiously. Willard shook his head.
“I’ll tell you at noon,” he said. “There isn’t time now. We’ve got only three minutes to get to school. Wait for me at the east door at recess, Tom.”
Tom’s lessons didn’t go very well that forenoon. Try as he might, he couldn’t get that automobile out of his head, and the schemes he evolved and abandoned to get possession of it were legion. After morning session he waited for Willard at the front entrance, and the two boys sought a quiet corner of the stone curbing about the high school grounds and opened their lunch-boxes. After Willard had taken the edge off his appetite by the consumption of threesandwiches and a slice of pie he consented to satisfy Tom’s curiosity.
“My, but I was starved. I didn’t eat much breakfast, because I was afraid I’d miss you at your house, and I wanted to have a look at that car with you. You don’t think there’s much chance of your father buying it?”
“I don’t believe there’s any chance,” replied Tom ruefully.
“Is there any other way you know of that you can get the money?”
“No, I wish there was!”
“Well, all right,” and Willard began to peel and quarter an orange. “I spoke to my dad about that auto last night, Tom. You see, I got to thinking about it, after I left you, and it seemed to me like a pretty good idea. He said it sounded as though it might be a bargain, and he didn’t see why you couldn’t do pretty well bringing folks up from the station. We talked it all over, and—well, here’s my idea. See how you like it. You say you can’t get the money to buy it yourself. I don’t want to ‘butt in,’ Tom, but I’ve been thinking that perhaps you and I could go into the thing together, that is, if you don’t mind having a partner. Wait a minute! Now, suppose we get a man to look that car all over and tell us how much it would cost to put it in good shape. Dad knows ofjust the chap. His name is Brennan, and he works in the machine shop down by the railroad. Dad says he’d probably do it for us for a dollar. Then, if he says the car can be fixed up for—well, say, fifty dollars, we’ll go ahead. You get your father to put in fifty, and I’ll put in fifty. That’ll make a hundred. We’ll pay fifty dollars down to Saunders, and we’ll spend fifty in having it repaired and painted. We’ll do the painting ourselves. That will leave us in debt about a hundred dollars. If it’s necessary I’ll put in another fifty, but if it isn’t we’ll pay off what we owe in installments. As the idea was yours, and, as you’ll do the work, you’ll get two-thirds of what we make, and I’ll get one-third. What do you say?”
“Why—but—can you do that?” exclaimed Tom.
“Yes. You know I got some money from my grandmother’s estate last Fall. I’m to use it for college, but I won’t need it all, and, anyway, if this thing works out the way we expect it to, it will be a good investment. Of course, I wouldn’t want to risk more than a hundred, Tom; I couldn’t afford to. Maybe you think you ought to get more than two-thirds, but dad thought that was fair, and——”
“That part’s all right,” said Tom. “Seems to me you ought to have more than a third of the earnings, Will.”
“No, because, you see, you’ll have to do the work.I’d help when I could, but I don’t know how to run a car, and I’ll be rather busy this summer, getting ready for college in the fall.”
“Well, it’s a perfectly corking scheme,” said Tom, “but I’m terribly afraid that father won’t let me have the money. Perhaps, though, when I tell him that you’re going in with me, and think it’s all right, he may change his mind.”
“You keep at him,” laughed Willard. “Of course, there won’t be much in it for us for a while, because we’ll have to pay Saunders. But we ought to get our money back, in time, at least. Then, if the thing works well, we’ll find someone to run the car while you’re in school in the winter. Why, maybe we’ll get so rich that we’ll be able to buy a real motor ’bus, Tom!”
“Wouldn’t that be dandy!” said Tom softly. “I—I’m awfully much obliged to you, Will, and——”
“Oh, piffle! I’m going into it, as a—a business proposition, Tom. You don’t need to thank me. If I didn’t think I’d get my money back all right I wouldn’t think of it. Couldn’t afford to, Tom. You have a talk with your father as soon as you can, will you?”
“Of course. I’ll stop in and see him at the shop after school.”
“That’s the ticket. I wonder if it would help any if I went along, Tom?”
“I wish you would. He’d think more of the scheme if you talked it up a little. Don’t you think so?”
“He might. We’ll try it. I’ll meet you after school and go with you. If he says yes, we’ll go on down to the machine shop and find this chap Brennan. We’ve got to know what the thing will cost, first of all.”
“And hadn’t we better stop and see Saunders right away, and get a—get the refusal of the automobile?” asked Tom uneasily. “Suppose someone else got ahead of us and bought it?”
“I don’t believe there’s much danger of that,” said Willard; “but maybe we’d better be on the safe side. So we’ll stop in and see the old codger first thing.”
“There isn’t time now, is there?” asked Tom, looking anxious.
Willard looked at his silver watch and shook his head. “No, the bell will ring in four minutes. If we’d thought of it sooner—but I don’t believe anyone will get ahead of us. By the way, don’t you have to have a license to run an automobile?”
“I don’t know. Do you?”
“I think so. We’ll have to find out about that. How much do you suppose a license will cost?”
Tom shook his head. “I don’t know. Where do you suppose we can find out?”
“I guess dad knows. I’ll ask him this evening. Ihope it doesn’t cost very much. A dog license costs three dollars, but I suppose that hasn’t anything to do with an automobile license. How long do you think it will take you to learn to run the thing, Tom?”
“About a week, I guess,” replied Tom vaguely. “Of course, there’s lots to learn about the engine part of it, but I guess you don’t have to know all that at first. There’s the bell. I’ll meet you after school, Will. And—and don’t be late, will you? It would be fierce if we got there and found Saunders had sold the car!”
But that fear proved vain when, five minutes after dismissal, the two boys reached the carriage works, rather anxious and quite breathless. The car was still there, looking, if anything, a trifle more dilapidated than before. Mr. Saunders had to be summoned from somewhere on the floor above, and, while they awaited him, they again looked over the car. It wasn’t a very commodious car. The rear seat was quite wide enough to take three passengers comfortably, but there was precious little leg room for them.
“Not much room for bags,” commented Willard.
“We could put them in front,” said Tom. “It wouldn’t be very often we’d get more than three passengers at a load. I wonder what kind of a car it is.”
“Gasoline,” suggested Willard, with a laugh.
“I mean what make. There ought to be a name on it somewhere.”
But search failed to reveal any until Willard found some almost illegible lettering on a brass plate running along the edge of the front flooring. They finally deciphered it. “Treffry Motor Co.” was the legend.
“Ever hear of a Treffry car?” asked Willard.
“Yes, I think so. I wonder how old it is. Saunders says three years, but I’ll wager——”
He didn’t have time to state what he was willing to wager, however, for at that moment Mr. Saunders appeared on the scene. Willard acted as spokesman.
“Back again, Mr. Saunders,” he announced carelessly.
“So I see.” The carriage man didn’t seem overly glad to find him there, Tom thought.
“Yes, I got to thinking it over, and I dropped in to make you an offer.”
“All right; let’s hear it. I’m sort of busy this afternoon.”
“Well, I want to have a man come up here and look the car over. If he says it can be repaired reasonably, I’ll pay you a hundred and twenty-five dollars for it, fifty dollars cash and the balance at the rate of twenty dollars a month.”
“My terms was a hundred and fifty cash,” said Mr. Saunders.
“Yes, but like as not you were expecting to pay ten or fifteen dollars’ commission to someone,” responded Willard cheerfully. “You won’t have to pay any commission, and that will save something.”
“H-m; and what about interest?”
“Interest?”
“Sure; interest on the balance of seventy-five dollars you’d be owing me. It would be four months before I’d get the last of it.”
“Oh, I see.” Willard looked doubtfully at Tom. “Well, I suppose interest at three per cent.——”
“Three per cent.! Jumpin’ Jupiter! The legal rate is five!”
“Is it? On automobiles?”
“On anything. I guess you don’t know a whole lot, after all, son. You want a fellow to come here and take the car to pieces?”
“Well, look it over, you know.”
“Yes, and leave it spread all over the place, like as not, so I’ll never be able to get it together again! Who you going to send here?”
“A man named Brennan, who works——”
“Jimmy Brennan at the machine shop? I know him. Well, all right, but he’s got to put things together the way he finds ’em. You tell him that.”
“I will, Mr. Saunders. Now will you give me a refusal of the car until I hear what Mr. Brennan says about it?”
“I don’t know about that. I might miss a sale. How soon is he comin’, and when will you know whether you want to buy her or not?”
“I’m going to try and get him to come to-morrow. Then just as soon as I hear what he says——”
“I’ll give you an option until this time to-morrow, and that’s the best I can do,” said Mr. Saunders with finality. “Take it, or leave it. A hundred and twenty-five isn’t enough, anyway, for an automobile like that. Why, that car cost, new, ’most fifteen hundred dollars, I guess!”
“That isn’t very long,” said Willard, “but if it’s the best you’ll do, all right. Only I’m afraid Mr. Brennan is so busy——”
“Tell him to come this evening. I’ll give him the key if he will stop at my house. He knows where I live.”
“Thanks. I’ll ask him to, then. Much obliged.” As they started out Mr. Saunders called Tom back.
“Look here,” he whispered, “I agreed to give you ten dollars, son, but that was for selling her for a hundred and fifty. This fellow’s only going to pay a hundred and twenty-five, and not all cash, either. So I can’t give you more’n five dollars; understand?”
“I don’t want any commission at all, thank you, Mr. Saunders,” replied Tom.
“Oh!” Mr. Saunders looked relieved. “Well, that’s all right, then. Can this fellow pay the money? Who is he?”
“He can pay, all right, Mr. Saunders. His name is Willard Morris. His father——”
“I know. All right.”
“But why didn’t you take the five?” asked Willard, when Tom repeated the conversation outside. “Every dollar helps, you know.”
“Yes, but it didn’t seem quite fair, when I was sort of half buying it myself.”
“No, that’s so. Now you’d better talk to your father first, and then I’ll say my piece.”