The old fellow was dead in earnest. Can you imagine? No wonder that Poppy and I laughed our heads off. He had been dragged here against his wishes by his new religious wife, he said. And to please her he had let the leader of the gang give him a Bible name.
He was like a big kid in his talk. Some day, he told us, with a sort of wistful, far-away look in his big eyes, he was going to run away from his wife, of whom he seemed to be scared to death, and go back to the “sins of the world.” Then he inquired about the latest prize-fight news, ending up by asking who was President. I wanted to tell him “George Washington,” but Poppy told him the truth.
Well, it was fun talking with him, but we were wasting a lot of good time. Having sort of made friends with us, he confessed, as we further dickered with him, that the regular toll fee for going through town in an automobile was two dollars. If we hadn’t been smart, you see, he would have stuck us for a five-spot, knocking down the other three dollars. As it was, we hated like the dickens to let go of our money, for to a boy two dollars is two dollars. But there was no way out of it. Paying him the money, we sort of rode in state through town, looking for Noah and the whale, but to our disappointment nobody came to rubber at us. There was a big community picnic down the river, the giant told us. That’s where the people were.
Having crossed the river, we came to a steep hill. And how we ever got to the top of it I can’t imagine. But we did. From then on the road was more or less hilly. It was a glad moment, let me tell you, when we got a whiff of the Neponset Corners slaughter-house. Hot dog, was our happy thought, as we cantered into town. The good old concrete now.
I easily picked out Lawyer Chew’s house. For not only was it big like he was, but it had the owner’s name chiseled on the stone horse block at the curb. As further proof, I saw a fat boy in the yard who was a dead ringer for old Chew himself.
Bang! went something under the car. But I didn’t jump this time. For I had a hunch that it was a blow-out.
“Lawyer Chew will think that you’re trying to shoot him,” I grinned.
“Is that where he lives?” Poppy rubbered.
“Sure thing. Don’t you see his understudy on the lawn?”
The fat kid meandered into the street to watch the tire repairs.