“Are—are you,” Johnny had been struck by a sudden thought, “could you use a little publicity on your new type of motor?”
“It would be thankfully received.”
“You shall have it,” Johnny was away.
On his way to find Kentucky, Johnny scribbled a note, then thrust it together with two new paper dollars into Lige Field’s hand.
“Here Lige,” he exclaimed, “hop on your pony and ride like sixty to the Gap. Get this message off. The change is all yours.”
“Thanks, Johnny! Thanks a powerful lot!” Lige was away and so was Johnny.
After racing up the creek and over a low ridge to notify Kentucky of their good-bad fortune of a wrecked car and a promised airplane ride, without waiting for the other boy to pack his bag, he hastened back toward the meadow and the waiting plane.
On the way he caught up with Donald Day. “Come on along with me to the meadow,” he urged. “We’re flying back to Hillcrest for tomorrow’s game.”
“Boy! You’re going high-hat in a big way!” Donald exclaimed, increasing his speed.
“Case of necessity,” Johnny explained.