“I want damages!” he declared firmly.
“Oh, say, there’s only one way to end this,” said Ned finally, putting his hand in his pocket. “It wasn’t our fault, but I suppose we’ve got to stand being gouged by this fellow. I’ll pay him, Jerry, as this trip is on my father’s account, and then we can get along. How much was your calf worth, Mr. Sackett?”
“Fifty dollars ef he was a cent!”
“Fifty dollars!” gasped Bob.
“Nonsense!” exclaimed Professor Snodgrass, who could be very practical on occasions. “I know something of farm animals. Pull that calf out, Jerry, and let’s look at him.”
Jerry and Ned grasped the tail, and soon had the creature out in the highway. The farmer offered no further objections to it being moved, now that it seemed as if he was in a fair way to collect damages.
“Humph! A very young calf,” commented Mr. Snodgrass. “Hardly fit to kill for veal. And it doesn’t seem to have been hit very hard.”
“No, it was a very gentle blow,” said Jerry. “The car was almost at a standstill when he ran into it.”
“It must have died easily,” went on the scientist. “Now, Mr. Sackett, you’ll have to lower your figure, for I know that calf was never worth any fifty dollars.”
“Well, it’s wuth forty.”