Part 52 (1/2)
Then we stopped fooling, and began to talk of general matters. I told him about Larry Friday.
”Poor old Larry,” said Fred.
”Why poor old Larry?” I asked, with a sinking feeling in my heart.
”Why the poor devil only got clear of the bankruptcy court three months ago. You know he tried to run the Providence business after his father died, but he made a bad mess of it. Still, I guess he's learned his lesson.”
I had a cold feeling around my heart, and I began to wish that I had heeded Betty's advice. A five hundred dollar note is not much to endorse, if a fellow's got the money; but--
”But can he?” I heard Betty ask.
”Of course he can!” said Fred.
”What's that?” I asked, coming out of my brown study.
”I suppose you know,” Fred said, ”that I am an agent for the Michigan car, the best little four-cylinder on the market, twenty miles on a gallon of gas, seats five people, rides like a feather bed, nine hundred and fifty dollars.”
”Hold on,” I cried, ”if you have come here to sell me a car, just beat it while the beating is good.”
”I have not,” he said, ”I have come to tell you that you and Charlie Martin are going joy riding with me. I have to go to Hartford to attend the conference of the eastern managers of the Michigan Car Company, and I think the ride, and a day or so off, would do you and Charlie a world of good.”
”But we can't get away.”
”Can't!” jeered Fred. ”Hear the man, Betty,” he said, turning to her.
”Here is a man in business who says 'can't.' Don't you know that failure comes in 'can't's' and success comes in 'cans.' How many cans of it can I sell you?”
”You're full of it to-day, aren't you?” I said.
”Bet you I am, had eggs for breakfast, and am full of yokes.”
”But,” I said, ”Charlie and I can't get away together.”
”I'll be around at the house at nine-thirty to-morrow morning, and I'll pick Charlie up before I get here. We will stay at Hartford on Monday night, and Tuesday I will leave you folks to enjoy yourselves for a short time while I attend the conference.”
”There isn't anything to do in Hartford,” I said.
”Nothing to do! Say, Dawson, wake up! You--a retail merchant--saying 'nothing to do' when there's a bunch of good retail stores there, every one of which should give you a number of good ideas. Don't you want to see the Charter Oak? Why, there's a whole lot of interesting things in Hartford, and it certainly would do you and Martin good to visit there and get an a.s.sortment of good wrinkles. Besides, I want to tell you boys something about automobiles.”
”That's awfully good of you, Fred,” I said, ”but honest Injun, I'm not interested in automobiles.”
”Autos be blowed!” he said.
”Blown,” corrected Betty, smiling.
”Have it your own way,” said Fred. ”Now,” said he, turning to me, ”you and Charlie are coming with me to-morrow as my guests, and I'm going to give you a real good time. I'll be through at the meeting at four or five o'clock Tuesday night, and then we'll have a good dinner and a nice midnight ride back home.”
”I will go,” I said.
”I knew you would,” he replied, ”and now, Betty, what about that bread-breaking stunt you spoke of?”