"Yes, Mrs. Todd, do be persuaded," Mrs. Burton chimed in. "After twenty miles with your Barney Oldfield you need nourishment, I'm sure. You and I can talk about his recklessness while he and Mr. Burton have their little conference."
If Todd had an appointment for a conference there at that hour with Burton, I am positive it was news to Mrs. Todd and me. I could feel her weight growing heavier on my cushion springs.
"Thank you for the invitation," she replied, "but I am so badly shaken up, I prefer to sit out here."
To which her husband added, laughingly: "She wouldn't risk having her new car stolen for anything."
It was twilight before we started for home, the Burtons pulling out ahead of us. At the beginning of the climb over the mountain I saw the Mammoth stop. We drew alongside.
"Out of gas, confound it," growled Burton, "and five miles from a service station!"
"I'd lend you some, only I haven't much myself," said Todd.
"Got a rope?"
"Yes, but——"
"Oh, we can. We can pull you and never know it. Hitch on behind. We like to travel in stylish company, Mrs. Todd and I."
So we towed them over the mountain and left them at a red pump. John
Quincy Burton's gratitude was immense.