After a moment of indecision and muttering, Edward drove on. Looking back through the rear window of the car, Dick saw Quiggle wave grandly, beneficently ere, bag in hand, he disappeared into Goss.
There was another turn, again to the right, and once more the car stopped. “Here you are, sir,” announced the driver. “Sohmer Hall. You’ll excuse me if I don’t take your bag in for you, but we ain’t allowed to leave the car.”
“That’s all right,” said Dick, emerging. “Here you are.” He held forth a half-dollar. The driver observed it coldly and made no effort to take it. “Quit your kiddin’,” he said.
“Well, that’s all you’ll get,” replied Dick warmly. “That’s the legal fare.”
“It is, eh? Say, where do you get that stuff? Listen, kid. The fare’s fifty cents a person, seventy-five for two. Get me?”
“What! Why, that other fellow said it was—Anyway, he gave me a quarter for his share of it!”
The driver nodded wearily. “Sure he would! That’s him all over. You’re lucky he didn’t stick you for the whole racket. Come across with another quarter, young feller!”
Grudgingly, Dick did so. “If you knew Quiggle was that sort——” he began aggrievedly.
“Who?” asked the driver, a grin growing about his mouth.
“Quiggle. The fellow you left at Goss Hall. I say, if you knew——”