Fairly boiling with rage, he started along the road on foot.
“Wait a minute!” shouted Matt. “Where you going?”
The man turned.
“Krug’s,” he answered. “I’ll get a decent, respectable car there to take me on.”
“You can telephone to a garage from Krug’s,” suggested Billy, “and they can send some one to get the runabout home.”
“I’m done with the runabout, I tell you. It can stay where it is until the tires rot, for all of me.”
“I’ll agree to get it back to the city for you,” said Matt. “My name’s King, Matt King, and I’m staying at——”
The man’s rage subsided a little.
“You’re Matt King?” he inquired.