"That's just what I do mean. We are not the only people in the world who do good turns. A lot of folks get fun out of good turns who never heard of the Boy Scouts."
Specs frowned. "And you think this farmer will take us to Belden, when all we can do is to promise him that we will pay him after we get there and borrow the money?"
"We'll find out. We'll tell him just the fix we're in and how we expect to get the money to pay him; and if he is any kind of a judge of people, he will know we are speaking the truth."
"He may know we're speaking the truth," said Specs decisively, "but when you ask him to risk his gasoline and his car, he'll say he has something else to do. But come along; you'll see I'm right."
They turned into the driveway; it led to a little lawn just in front of a white house with green blinds.
"There's the car," said Nap, pointing to a bulky automobile visible through the open door of a homemade garage.
"And back there is the man who owns it," said Bonfire. "Hear that? He's behind the house, hoeing."
"You don't know whether it's a man, woman or child," answered Specs. He stooped and picked up a stone. "I suppose if I chuck this over here, you can tell me whether it lights on an ant hill or on a yellow dandelion."
Jerking his arm, he shot the stone in the direction of the corner of the house. From the rear, a second later, came the crash and jingle of breaking glass.