The attendant rushed out to rescue Dynamite.
"Never mind, Mister," smiled Judd, perspiration trickling down his face. "Dynamite won't explode any more. He's meek as a lamb an' all in!"
True, Dynamite might just as well have been christened Talcum Powder now, for all the fight there was in him. The poor donkey had no further ambitions to unseat other riders and was perfectly content to let Judd perch on his back.
"Son, you're all right!" congratulated the manager, holding out his hand. "I'm a game loser. I'm not only out twenty-five dollars but my Dynamite is all gone. A baby could ride that mule now! Officer, pay this man the money. He earned it all right!"
CHAPTER X
AN ATTEMPTED HOLD-UP
It was exactly six-thirty and the fellows were just finishing a good supper at Walker's lunch counter. Judd had become a hero in the eyes of everyone now, except Benz. He could not allow himself to think of Judd being other than just a plain country rube and although mightily astonished at Judd's showing he passed it off finally with: "The lucky stiff!"
Pole was speaking. "Rube, seeing you've got so much kale now you might pay back that quarter I loaned you, with interest."
"Yes, an' don't forget that dollar an' a half you owe me," chimed in
Oole, with his mouth full of Boston baked beans.
"I don't owe you a cent an' never did!"