“My gracious, Billy! I forgot that you and Dan are capitalists. You could buy old Maxey out, couldn’t you?”
“So he could,” cried Jim. “Billy and Dan banked the thousand dollars reward the Darringfords offered for the apprehension of the fellow who set the shops afire. Now, Maxey, if you really want to sell, you’d better put a real price on your car.”
Billy flushed. He was stirred by impulse to buy the wrecked car. He had seen just how badly it was smashed and he knew that if Maxey would sell cheap enough somebody would get a bargain. The drab racing machine was of a standard make and there was good reason why Maxey might have thought of entering it in the thousand mile endurance run. A car of the same kind had won such a contest only the season before.
Young Solomons looked at Billy thoughtfully. Something seemed to be working in his mind.
“You came down and saved me, Billy Speedwell,” he said. “Of course, the other boys helped, and I’m grateful to all of you. But Billy came first to my help.”
“Shucks!” grunted Billy. “Forget it!”
“No. I’m not likely to forget it,” returned Maxey, gravely. “If you want that car—just as it lies there in the tree-top—you can have it for five hundred dollars. She cost twenty-two hundred and fifty. I can show you the receipted bill.”
“Whew!” cried Jim. “You don’t want anything for it, do you, Maxey? I don’t believe you can get it out of the tree.”
But Billy had made up his mind already about that phase of the matter. And how he wanted to own that racing car!
He and Dan had watched the auto as it was handled by the professional chauffeur, and knew that it was a wonderfully good machine. But if the car was lifted safely back to the road, it would cost a good deal to rebuild it and put it in running shape again. Still——