Charlie made a rapid mental calculation. "One thousand dollars," he said.
"One thousand dollars!" repeated poor Patty slowly. "One thou—but, Charlie," for a gleam of light had come to her,—"but, Charlie, what is it for? What ha-have you done? Oh, it is too terrible!"
"I haven't done much of anything, really," Charlie protested; "nothing worth mentioning if we hadn't had an accident."
"An accident!" Patty murmured.
"Yes, an accident. You see there were four of us that thought it would be fun—and no harm, Pat, really, if things hadn't gone wrong—to take a little run in a motor—an automobile. Fostrow has a car of his own at home, and he was to drive. In fact, he did." Charlie chuckled, as though at the recollection. "He did until he had got us arrested twice for speeding. But that was a small matter, only twenty-five dollars a time. Fostrow paid that himself. He said it was worth double the money to see those country-men get out of the way. And we ran over a dog. It turned out to be a very valuable dog. All that is in the day's work, though. We—"
"Oh, Charlie," Patty interrupted, "I knew you would get into trouble if you went in those horrible machines, at any rate, without a competent and reliable driver. I have always thought that Edward would be the driver I should choose; so steady and—"
"Edward!" Charlie exclaimed. He had been about to add something further, in the way of comment, but he thought better of it. "No doubt, Edward would be very steady, but he is too old, to my way of thinking. Well, we had gone about fifty miles and began to think it was time to go back. So we filled up our gasoline tank, got something to eat, and started back. It was dark by that time. We were rather hurrying over the country roads, when something went wrong with the steering-gear and the next thing I knew I was lying on the other side of a stone wall—"
"—And the machine was completely smashed—crumpled up—with a telephone pole on top of it. Then the gasoline caught fire and the whole thing burned up, pole and all. The other men were more or less hurt, but I hadn't a scratch, only some bruises. Fostrow's in a hospital out there, now, with two ribs broken. The owner of the machine got after us. It was a new machine and a beauty; cost five thousand, he said. So that explains the bail."
"Oh, Charlie!" breathed Patty. "What a mercy you escaped!"