“Not to speak of! I’d do most anything for you, Gordie, but not that!”
“Well, ride down town with me. You needn’t go in.”
“That’s fair. And I’ll try to catch you when he drops you out the window. Come on.”
Mr. Brent was not in. The clerk, recognizing Gordon as the youth who had called previously and been admitted, explained, in answer to his look of perplexity, that Mr. Brent had been suddenly called to New York and would be gone at least overnight.
“He didn’t leave any message for me, did he?” asked the boy.
“No. He went away hurriedly. If it’s very important, you can reach him in New York by telephone this afternoon.”
Gordon departed, shaking his head. On the sidewalk he was presently joined by Fudge, who came out of Castle’s drug store, a few doors away, with a suspicious moistness about the mouth.
“You’re soon back,” he said. “Did he throw you out?”
“He’s away. Gone to New York. Now what’ll I do?”
“Do nothing. That’s easy. I should think you’d be tickled to death.”
“But that automobile can’t stay out there on the road forever, Fudge. Someone will steal it or pull it to pieces or something. I guess I’ll go over to the Brents’ and see what Louise thinks we’d better do.”
“Huh! What’s a girl know about it?” demanded Fudge. “Say, I had a soda. Want one?”
Gordon shook his head at first but finally allowed himself to be conducted to the front of the long white marble counter. A nice cold raspberry phosphate is an awfully good thing to soothe the mind, and Gordon felt more cheerful when he emerged. Fudge, who had followed his original root beer with a pineapple phosphate, confided to Gordon on the way home that he believed he’d apply at Castle’s for a job at the soda fountain.
“You see,” he explained, “I never had enough soda yet, and if I worked there I’ll bet I’d have a dandy time!”
Gordon postponed his call at Brentwood until after dinner and in the meanwhile presented his problem to his father. Mr. Merrick’s advice was caution. He thought Gordon had best let the automobile alone unless he obtained authority from Mr. Brent or perhaps Mrs. Brent to rescue it. When he reached Brentwood he asked for Louise and that young lady soon joined him. Morris, she reported, was very comfortable, considering the fact that his left leg was in a cast, but the doctor didn’t want him to see anyone quite yet. Gordon was secretly relieved, for he was afraid he wouldn’t know just how to behave or just what to say to an invalid. Louise led the way to the porch and then disappeared in search of her mother. When that lady appeared Gordon had to listen to many nice things and many expressions of gratitude, all of which embarrassed him horribly.