“Right you are! But——” and Mr. Connors shook his head doubtfully—“’tain’t the same when you have someone else do it for you. How are you going to know if you get all the money that’s coming to you? I’ve been bossing men all my life, nearly, and I know there ain’t one man in ten that’ll do the work the way you’d do it yourself; to say nothing of being honest with money. ’Twon’t work, boys, ’twon’t work! And that reminds me of something that’s been sort of buzzing around in my head of late. You fellows have done pretty well for a couple of months, and I guess you’ve made a little money, probably as much as you hoped you’d make, eh? But now it’s getting where you can’t look after the business yourself and where you’ll be in a lot of trouble one way and another. Why ain’t this a good time to sell out for a tidy figure and stay ahead of the game, eh?”
“Sell out?” murmured Willard. “I don’t think we’d care to do that, sir.”
“Sure you would—if you got enough money,” replied the other jovially. “Anybody would. Now suppose I make you an offer for your automobile and your good will, do you mind, you signing an agreement not to engage in the business again. Suppose I offer you—offer you—well, say I offer you five hundred dollars, eh? That’s worth considering, ain’t it?”
Tom scowled. “We make that much in two months,” he said.
“Not clear, you don’t,” was the reply. “Not after paying for gasoline and repairs and all. But supposing you do, Benton, how long is it going to keep up? When you’re paying another fellow to run your bus for you how much are you going to make? Besides, I’ve been thinking it might be a good plan to put on an automobile myself. They say they’re considerably cheaper than horses.”
“I dare say there’d be room for both of us,” replied Willard smoothly. “I don’t think we care to sell out, Mr. Connors.”
“Don’t, eh? That means I ain’t offered enough, I guess. Well, now, just to show that I’m no haggler, boys, I’ll double that figure. I’ll pay you an even thousand! What do you say now? I guess that’s some offer, ain’t it? All I’m getting is a second-hand automobile that didn’t cost more’n a couple of hundred, I suppose.”
“We’re not selling,” responded Tom emphatically.