“I might carry it,” he reflected. “If I try to run it, I will loosen it up more and lose some of the parts. Guess I’ll leave it here, get my message to Mr. Buckner, stop at the house for my tool kit, and fix the machine up right here. This way, my staunch and trusty friend,” he hailed to Christmas. “Watch it, old fellow, watch it,” said Frank to the dog, placing his hand on the wheel.
Christmas looked longingly after his young master as Frank started on foot for Greenville. However, the animal posed right alongside the bicycle. Frank knew that it would take a loaded cannon to drive the trusty canine from the vicinity of his charge until he himself reappeared and gave the word.
It was just one o’clock when Frank, a trifle dusty and footsore, entered the office of Mr. Buckner.
“Well, well, good for you, Frank,” commended the insurance man, as he glanced at the clock and then at his visitor’s beaming face. “Of course you succeeded?”
“I did,” admitted Frank, a little proudly, “but there was a tangle.”
“Ah, indeed?”
“Yes, sir. Dorsett was on the spot. There is the receipt. I had to climb for it.”
“What do you mean?”
Frank told of the circumstances of his exploit at Mr. Pryor’s office at Riverton. Mr. Buckner lay back in his chair chuckling and laughing. Then he got up and clapped Frank approvingly on the shoulder with one hand, and with the other extended a crisp new five-dollar bill.
“I am glad to get this,” said Frank, “but I have hardly earned so much, I think.”