CHAPTER IV.
CLANCY GETS A JOB.
There was nothing friendly in Rockwell’s voice. In fact, his very words showed an enmity for which Clancy was at a loss to account.
“I was helping out the judge,” said he. “I didn’t know I was butting into your affairs.”
“You made Pembroke think I didn’t know what was wrong with his car!”
“Well, you didn’t, did you?”
“Think I’m a fool? Think I——” Rockwell broke off suddenly, as though realizing he was going too far. “Pembroke is one of my best customers,” he went on. “He keeps two cars at my garage—that big one and an electric for his wife. You’ve made him think I don’t know my business, and I’m liable to lose his trade. That’s why I’m sore about your butting in.”
There was something here which Clancy could not understand. If Rockwell knew what was wrong with the judge’s car—and it was foolish to think that a man who ran a garage could not locate so simple a difficulty—then why hadn’t he fixed the motor instead of offering to tow the car in for an overhauling?
Clancy, who was quick-witted, fell to wondering if Hibbard and Rockwell might not be in “cahoots” to secure money from the judge for “repairs” that were not needed. The chauffeur had shown that he was not to be trusted, and Clancy had heard stories of Rockwell which were far from being a credit to him.
All this, however, was merely guesswork. Knowing nothing absolutely, Clancy reserved judgment.
“I’m sorry if I did you a bad turn, Mr. Rockwell,” said he, “but it seems queer that Hibbard would misrepresent things to the judge, and——”