“Glad to,” answered Tom. “Do you want to drive around the road at the bottom of the cliff and find out about your horse?”
“I guess there isn’t much left of him, young man,” was the grim answer. “He’s had his last run. It was a narrow escape for me. How did you happen to be right on the spot?”
“Just by chance,” Tom replied.
He drove back to the millionaire’s home, declining an invitation to come in. Then Tom and Mary went on, and when later in the evening he left her at her home, she said with shining eyes:
“Oh, Tom, suppose he should?”
“Should what, Mary?”
“Give you ten or twenty thousand dollars for saving his life? He could well afford to do it—he’d never miss the money—and then you could finish the new airline machines.”
“I don’t want any reward for saving lives, Mary. Besides, he’d have to give you a share. If you hadn’t been with me I never could have saved him.”
“Nonsense, Tom!”
“No nonsense about it!”