The other two exchanged looks.
“Let’s take another squint at the thing before we decide,” remarked Thad.
“Agreed,” his chum added. “I never did like to buy a pig in a poke, as they used to say.”
Once more they examined the engine, and then took a look at each of the pretty well-used tires. Meanwhile Giraffe had exhausted his vocabulary, and both he and the old German owner of the stranded car stood and watched what the others were doing.
Bumpus bustled around like a busy beaver. From the way he poked his head under the hood of the machine, touched this part of the machinery and then that, one would have thought he might be an experienced mechanic; and yet what Bumpus did not know about such things would fill many volumes. But then it pleased him to look wise.
“Did you ask him if he cared to sell the old trap, Giraffe?” questioned Thad.
“Yes,” the other scout replied, “I put it up to him, and he told me he didn’t care if he did, providing he could get his price, and that it was in cash.”
“The cash part we could meet easily enough,” continued the scout leader, “but I’d want to know what sort of a price he means to put on the wreck. It’s of little use to him as it stands, for he can’t do a thing with it.”
“I told him so,” said Giraffe, “and that if we chose to buy the car it would only be to have a little fun out of it, and then throw the old tub in the discard.”
“It’s only fit for the scrap heap,” ventured Bumpus, pompously.