“Then you learn how to drive him,” retorted Tom, aware of the mocking gleam in Johnny’s eyes and knowing full well that Pat Herron was enjoying this hugely. “You’ll pay for the damage, too, before you’re through with me.” He went back to the front of the car and looked it over. Fortunately the end of the springs had borne the brunt of the attack. The paint was knocked from them, but that was easily remedied. One search-light was bent and its glass broken and the end of a mud-guard was crumpled. Trembling with indignation and anger, Tom looked up to find Pat Herron grinning across at him from the seat of the hack.
“Them things is easy broke, I’m thinkin’,” he observed.
“That’s all right. You can tell Connors it will cost him about twenty dollars to fix it. I dare say he put you up to it!”
“Aw, forget it, sonny! Sure, didn’t you see ’twas an accident?”
“I saw it, but it wasn’t any accident, and you know it!” retorted Tom hotly. “And somebody will pay for the damage, too!”
“Sure, I could buy one o’ them things for five dollars,” said Pat Herron facetiously. “A fellow offered me a couple the other day would I take ’em away.”
Tom, with a final look at the damage, climbed back to the seat in dignified silence. Johnny Green had dismounted and was solicitously examining the back of his wagon. Presently he turned, with a wink, to Pat Herron.
“What for did you start your machine up like that and bump into me?” he inquired in hurt tones. “Look at what you did to me paint!”
“I didn’t start my machine,” returned Tom indignantly. “You backed into me on purpose, and I hope it scraped your paint all off.”