The chauffeur appeared with the gasolene poured it into the tank, and tossed the can to Dick.
“Poorest stuff I ever saw,” he muttered savagely as he climbed to his seat. “All right, sir?”
“Go ahead,” replied the gentleman beside him. The car sprang forward and in a moment had disappeared in a cloud of dust. Dick went back to the store.
“Did they pay you?” asked Harry, eagerly.
“I should say they did.” Dick exhibited the five-dollar bill. “He said this would pay for the gasolene and the other stuff, and I was to keep the change. I kept it.”
“But the chauffeur paid for the gasolene!” cried Roy. “Call them back!”
“You go out and call,” said Dick, dryly. “They’re a mile away by this time. If they want their money, they’ll come back for it. Meanwhile it goes to Mrs. Peel.” He deposited the five-dollar note in the till. Harry clapped her hands ecstatically.
“Six dollars more!” she cried. “You must all help me put it down. How much were the sardines, Dick?”
Half an hour later a small boy appeared and bought a bottle of peppermint and two sticks of candy, and that completed the day’s sales. At six o’clock they closed the store. Chub locked the door into the living-rooms and put the key on a nearby shelf.
“There’s no use having that open,” he said, “since Jennie isn’t coming.”