“Say, Cart,” said Billy after a brief silence of thought, “I gotta get you on my machine. We gotta get down to Unity an' phone.”
“All right, old man, just as you say,” murmured Mark too dizzy to care.
So Billy with infinite tenderness, and much straining of his young muscles got Mark up and managed to put him astride the wheel; but it was tough going and slow, over rough places, among undergrowth, and sometimes Billy had to stop for breath as he walked and pushed and held his friend.
But Mark was coming to his own again, and by the time they reached a road he was able to keep his balance, and know what he was doing. It was high noon before they reached Unity and betook themselves to the drug store. While Mark asked for medicine Billy hied him to a telephone booth. His heart was beating wildly. He feared him much that Mark's car was gone.
But the chief's voice answered him after a little waiting, and he explained:
“Say, I'm the kid that phoned you early this morning. Didya get that car aw'right?” Billy held his breath, his jaded eyes dropped shut with anxiety and weariness. But the chief's voice answered promptly, “yes, we got yer car all right, but didn't get the men. They beat it when they heard us coming. What sort of men were they, do you know?”
“Aw, that's aw'right, Chief, I'll tell ya when I gi'down there. Can't tell ya over the phone. Say, I'm Billy, Billy Gaston. You know me. Over to Sab'th Valley. Yes. You seen me play on the team. Sure. Well, say Chief, I'm here in Unity with the guy that owns the car. Mark Carter. You know him. Sure! Mark! Well, he's all in, an' he wants his car to get home. He's been up all night and he ain't fit to walk. He wants me to come over and bring his car back to Unity fer him. I got my bike here, See? Now, I ain't got a license of course, but I c'd bring his along. That be aw'right Chief, just over to Unity? Aw'right, Chief? Thank ya, Chief. Yas, I'm comin' right away. S'long!”
Billy saw Mark comfortably resting on a couch in the back room of the drug store, where an old pal of his was clerk, and then stopping only for an invigorating gulp or two of a chocolate ice cream soda, he climbed on his old wheel and pedalled on his happy way to Economy. The winds touched him pleasantly as he passed, the sunshine had a queer reddish look to his feverish eyes, and the birds seemed to be singing in the top of his head, but he was happy. He might go to sleep on the way and roll off his wheel, but he should worry! Mark was safe. He had almost sold him for thirty pieces of silver, but God had somehow been good to him and Mark was alive. Now he would serve him all the rest of his life,—Mark or God,—it seemed all one to him now somehow, so long had he idealized his friend, so mixed were his ideas of theology.
But Billy did not go to sleep nor fall off his wheel, and in due time he arrived in Economy and satisfied the Chief's curiosity with vague answers, a vivid description of Link and Shorty, and the suggestion that they might be found somewhere near the Haunted House on Stark's mountain. He had heard them talking about going there, he said. He got away without a mention of the real happening at Pleasant View or a hint that he had had anything to do with the stealing of the car. Billy somehow was gifted that way. He could shut his mouth always just in time, and grin and give a turn to the subject that entirely changed the current of thought, so he kept his own counsel. Not for his own protection would he have kept back any necessary information, but for Mark's sake. Yes—for Mark's sake—! Mark would not want it to be known.
It was in the early evening, and the sky was still touched by the after glow of sunset, beneath the evening star, as Mark and Billy in the reclaimed car, finally started from Unity for home.