At these words the Italian looked much crestfallen. He began to jabber away in a mixture of English and his own tongue, both to his boss and to our friends. But the boss would not listen to him, and ordered him away, and then he departed, looking decidedly sullen.
"I can't do anything with some of these fellows," explained the man in charge of the blasting. "I tell them just what to do, and sometimes they mind me and sometimes they don't. I'm very sorry this thing happened, but I'm thankful at the same time that you got through as well as you did," and he smiled a little.
"You're not half as thankful as we are," put in Sam, dryly.
"I hope there is no damage done to your cars, but if there is I'm willing to pay for it," went on the man.
"A few dents, but I guess that is all," answered Dick, after a look at both the car he was driving and the one run by his brother. "We'll let those go, for we are on a tour and have no time to waste here."
"All right, sir, just as you say. But here is my card; I don't want to sneak out of anything for which I'm responsible," continued the man. "If you find anything wrong later on you let me know and I'll fix it up with you."
"We ought to sue this fellow for damages!" cried Chester Waltham, wrathfully. "It's an outrage to treat us like this."
"Were you hurt in any way?" asked the man, quietly.
"We got a lot of dirt and stones on the runabout," growled Waltham.
"Oh, Chester! don't quarrel over the matter," entreated his sister, in a low tone. "The man didn't want to do it."