“No, sir,” replied the owner of the car seriously. “I’m studying up on autos, and I’m going to make my own repairs. And I’ve sent for a vulcanizing outfit that only costs three dollars and a half. When I get that I can fix my own tires. As for gasoline, why, Eli only drinks a gallon every twenty miles! And I don’t run that far in three days! I think it would be a good plan to hand over what we have left to the Athletic Committee, Gordie. They’ll need a lot of money now that we own the field. We’ll have to pay the taxes and for water and other things.”
“That’s right. As far as I’m concerned——”
“Remember this place?” interrupted Dick.
Gordon nodded. “Yes; that’s where Morris steered the car into the fence and me into the bushes.”
“It’s where you became a blooming hero,” said Fudge.
“Hero, nothing! What I did didn’t amount to a row of pins!”
“Well, it amounted to the gift of an athletic field to the school,” said Dick, with a smile. “That’s something, you know!”
“And it amounted to something else, t-t-too,” added Fudge. “It made Morris a respectable member of s-s-s-society!”
“What beautiful expressions you do use, Fudge!” laughed Gordon.
“Fudge is right, though,” agreed Dick, when he had carefully steered the car around a wagon. “Morris is a heap more—more likable than he was last year. Whether it was the accident——”