“Dreadful! It’s wonderful! Fixed? You bet it can! Sherry always declared this was some magic influence. Well, I’m jiggered.” The pocket light seemed to flash like a head light in the darkness as he directed it from one spot to another.
“And y’u kin drain it?” eagerly asked Marty, apparently forgetting the ankle.
“Nothing to it,” replied Ben. “With a gang of men and one of dad’s machines! Oh, say,” he was too jubilant for words. “Won’t this be great. Say, Glo!” (it didn’t seem too familiar now) “Let me have the contract? I’ll turn this into the finest little park ever. And the land will be worth oodles!”
“Now, easy, Ben,” cautioned Trixy pleasantly. “My own ‘paw’ is interested here!”
“And so’s mine. He has shares—” interrupted Marty, cracking his voice explosively.
“Well, I’ve got the deeds,” Gloria managed to recall. She was almost inarticulate.
“And don’t I figure?” asked Tom, shyly.
“You’ll have too,” declared Gloria. “But do let us rescue poor Marty. He’s hurt.”
“Not much now, it don’t,” declared Marty. “It’s most better. I could walk, maybe.”
“You don’t have to. What am I here for? Of course Gloria had to come to. She was afraid I might carry her,” teased the overjoyed Ben.