"Well, turn right around and drive up toward—well, toward Concannon's—and you can see me all you want to. I don't want mother should see me drivin' off with you in this car," and he chuckled. "She thinks she's taken a gre't dislike to this sort o' locomotion; but I'm going to have a car of some kind, jest the same."
Janice made no reply until she had turned the automobile and was headed uptown. Then her first words were:
"Mr. Moore, I want you to buy this car."
"Ahem! you mean one like it—a Kremlin?" he said, eyeing her curiously.
"No. This very car. It's all right and I will sell it to you cheap."
"You goin' to get a new one, Janice?"
"Oh, Mr. Moore! I'm not thinking of motor cars. I'm in great trouble. Perhaps you know? My father——"
"I heard something down to Massey's drugstore about his being hived up somewhere in Mexico by them insurrectionists," replied Cross Moore, still watching her countenance.
"Well, I want to go to him. You know how Uncle Jason is fixed just now."
"Yes, Janice. Jase is in a hole."