There he made a mistake. “I think I can attend to my own affairs,” his father said testily. “Suppose you devote yourself to your own, Ed.” Then he turned to Sam. “I’m not ready to say yes or no, definitely. I’ll have to have a look at your place first. It isn’t a matter of rental, but is a matter of safety; I want to see how you are doing things. I’ll come over in a day or two.”
“Thank you, sir,” said Sam.
“Umph! Better wait for results,” quoth Mr. Zorn drily, and resumed his march to the runabout, in which his companion was already seated.
As the little car shot away, Ed Zorn caught Sam, roughly, by the shoulder.
“Look here! You’ll pay for this!” he cried. “You may think you can get around my father with your slick palavering, but it won’t work. Your case will be attended to, soon enough!”
Sam shook himself free. “Keep your hands off me, Zorn!” he said sharply.
“Huh! Let’s see you make me keep ’em off!”
“I’m ready to try. Get that straight—I’m ready to try, right now!”
Sam’s voice was not raised, but there was a note in it that hinted at readiness to meet trouble half-way. Truth to tell, the head of the Safety First Club was beginning to feel the time was ripe for the personal reckoning he meant to have with this enemy.
Zorn’s face darkened. He cast a swift glance at the other boys in the background, and shook his head.