“And why not this one?” queried Mr. Robert, pointing to the drab car.
“Well——”
“Chance is driving Poole’s car, isn’t he?” asked Mr. Robert, with marked emphasis.
“Well, sir! You know yourself we are over-driven here!” cried Avery, in despair of clearing his skirts completely of the ugly charge of favoritism.
“Quite true. We will excuse you, Mr. Avery. I will attend to the Speedwells’ car,” said the young proprietor of the shops.
He turned his back on his superintendent—not without a little bow, however—and said pleasantly to Dan:
“Now, young man, as spokesman for you and your brother, tell me how you came in possession of a Breton-Melville car, this year’s type, racing rig, and apparently one that has been misused, at that?”
Dan laughed. Mr. Robert’s keen eye was not to be mistaken. One would not have thought that he had more than glanced casually at the wreck of Maxey Solomons’ automobile.
But between them (for Billy was bound to put in a word here and there) the Speedwells told him of their good fortune in obtaining possession of the wrecked car. Mr. Robert grew more and more interested. He began to take off his coat, and his cap and auto-goggles followed. Mr. Avery waited in the near distance, covertly watching the “young boss.”
“It’s a great chance for you, boys!” declared Mr. Robert. “Why, do you know, I’m going to enter for Briggs’ endurance test myself. I believe I’ve got a car that can even beat out a Breton-Melville,” and his eyes twinkled. “But it would be too bad if your car wasn’t ready in time, so that we could find out just how good a machine it is.”