“They’re contraptions,” says I, “with four wheels—one at each corner—and they’ve got an engine in ’em, and a thing to steer ’em by. Sure I know about ’em.”
He started talkin’ to himself.
“It’s fair,” says he. “It’s fair to d-do it. He’s done things to us—and we got to win out. It won’t do any d-damage. It won’t h-hurt anybody.... It’s f-fair, and I’m goin’ to do it.”
I could see he was arguing out something or other. Some scheme he had was a little doubtful to him. Now there’s one thing about Mark Tidd, no matter how much he wants to win, or what it would mean for him to lose, he plays fair. He wouldn’t use a scheme that wasn’t honest and aboveboard, no matter how certain it was to win. That’s the kind of a fellow he was.
“Plunk,” says he, “we’ve got to stop that auto.”
“All right,” says I, “let’s tie a rope across the road.”
He knew I was joking and grinned a little.
“No,” says he, “we got to stop it so Jehoshaphat won’t know he’s been stopped on purpose.”
But before we had a chance to do anything we heard an auto coming up the road. I got up and looked. It was Skip and a fellow I didn’t know in a little runabout.
“It’s him,” says I to Mark.