With that, she marched off and never turned a backward look.
Chick laughed a little, although he admitted to himself that it was pretty tough luck.
“Here, Patsy,” he said, “run after her and give her this twenty. That will soothe her feelings, I guess.”
Patsy chased after the girl and gave her the money.
“She was tickled to death,” he said, when he got back; “the old rattletrap wasn’t worth any more than the scrap iron that was in it; so it was bargain day for her, all right. I wonder what’s keeping Nick?”
“Clancy’ll kill him,” spoke up Cricket.
“Don’t you believe it,” returned Patsy.
“While we’re waiting,” said Chick, “we’ll get things in shape for the return trip.”
He was looking at the rear, right-hand tire, which hung to the wheel as flabby as a rag.
“Nick made a dead-center shot,” said Patsy.