So Tom told what little he knew of the car’s history, and Willard listened thoughtfully. “Well, I’ll tell you what I’d do, Tom,” he said finally. “If there was any chance of getting it, I’d find someone who knows about automobiles, and have him look it over. Then, if it wouldn’t cost too much to put it in shape, I’d offer Saunders a hundred and twenty-five for it. Tell him you’ll pay him, say, fifty dollars down, and so much a week. As for painting it, why, I don’t see why you couldn’t do that yourself. It isn’t hard to paint. I’ll help, if you like. And, I wouldn’t paint it black, either, because black shows all the dust and mud. Paint it—paint it gray, Tom.”
“Yes, I guess that would be better. And I suppose I could do it myself, as you say. It would be rather fun, wouldn’t it? Gee, I wish my father would let me get it!”
“Well, ask him. There’s no harm in that. I guess you could do pretty well with it, if you had it, Tom. What time is it? Let’s go out and watch those duffers practice for a while.”
Mr. Benton listened gravely and interestedly that evening to Tom’s plan, but shook his head.
“Tom,” he said finally, “I couldn’t find a hundred and twenty-five dollars for you right now to save my life. Maybe I could find fifty if Saunders would let you have the automobile for that much down, but it would be risky, I’m afraid. Suppose you didn’t make your scheme work, my boy? Then how would you meet your payments?”
“I don’t see how it could help working, father,” replied Tom earnestly. “I guess there’s fully twenty to thirty folks going back and forth from the station every day.”
“More, but they don’t all ride in hacks. Lots of them take the car and lots more walk.”
“But they wouldn’t so many of them walk or take the car if they could get up to town quickly and comfortably in an automobile.”
“Perhaps not. You can’t tell, though. Besides, I don’t know as I’d want to do anything to hurt Connors’ business, Tom. He’s been doing the station livery for a good many years now.”