"Yes, but—really, Jessica, we can't keep it here—in the kitchen," he cried. "It's smashed two eggs already, just the mention of it," he finished whimsically.
"But there are places—garages and things, Herbert; you know there are."
"Yes, but they—cost something."
"I know it; but if the car is ours for nothing, seems as if we might be able to afford its board and keep!"
"Well, by George! it does, Jessica; that's a fact," cried the man, starting to his feet. "There 's Dearborn's down to the Square. I 'll go and see them about it. They 'll know, too, how to get it here. I 'll go down right after supper. And, by the way, how about that omelet? Did our new automobile leave any eggs to make one?"
"Well, a few," laughed Jessica.
There was no elation in Herbert Wheeler's step when, two hours later, the young bank teller came home from Dearborn's.
"Well, I guess we—we're up against it, Jessica," he groaned.
"What's the matter? Won't they take it? Never mind; there are others."
"Oh, yes, they 'll take it and take care of it for fifteen or twenty dollars a month, according to the amount of work I have them do on it."