Thomas L. Masson

“ I pushed open the window wider.
"You see," he went on, "I have felt guilty at times, because—well, I fixed that car of hers so she'd have to come in often, so's I could see her—not to break down exactly, but it's easy to change your mixture and have the car get to missing and clouding up the plug, and there you are, only I never charged her for the time. That would have been rubbing it in, wouldn't it?"
At this moment the telephone bell rang—a long steady peal. Bill wearily reached for the earpiece.
"I knew it," he muttered. "There's no rest for the weary. Hello! Miss Caston. Oh, yes. ”

“ A small stationary gas engine in one comer was chugging energetically, and turning a system of wheels that extended to the remotest parts of the garage. An indescribable mixture of machines, tools, tires, defunct motor cycles, and broken parts was everywhere. And near a huge lathe, keenly watching a cylinder of iron as it revolved under his fingers, was Bill. ”

“ Stavey. I'll have to let you. Then I'll ride home in a trolley. Only—I wish Mr. Jenks was here!"
An hour later, when once more we stood in the cluttered garage. Bill, who had been silent all along, shook his head, half to himself, as he coiled up the rope that had been used to tow Miss Gaston's runabout in.
"Game's up," he said sorrowfully. "I'm the dub. I swear I thought I knew the real thing. But I've got a lot to learn after all."
"But, look here! old man," I said, my gathering indignation getting the best of me, "why didn't you protest? Why did you let her stand there and abuse you? ”

“ But, good heavens, I couldn't help it."
"A woman expects too much," I replied, warmed even then by the recollection. "In the first place, no woman has any business running a car——"
"That's dead right."
"But as long as she's in the game she ought to take her chances with the rest."
"Sure!"
"But of course you couldn't help it—in her case."
Bill slapped his leg.
"Couldn't for a minute!" he said. "Ain't she a peach? Mighty few girls have got a chassis like that."
"That's so," said I with enthusiasm.
Then I squared round.
"Look here, Bill," I said. "Are you stuck on that girl?" ”

“ There was a quaver in Bill's voice.
"No, it wasn't," he said. "Of course I couldn't help those pins shearing off. That wasn't on me. But I did monkey with that car a little, just to keep her coming here, and I ought to have got it in the neck. You see I couldn't explain. She wouldn't have believed me, anyway. It pays to be honest, even with a girl you're gone on, don't it? If I'd been square I might stand a chance with Jenks. ”

“ She had red hair, red cheeks, a slightly tilted nose, and a waist that, even if there hadn't been as much strenuous attention put upon it as was obvious, would have still been small and dainty enough for any man to love at first sight. ”

“ He meandered on while she and I listened. 'How is your car actin'?' says he. 'Isn't it giving you lots of trouble?' says he. 'I'll be glad to go over it for you,' says he. 'A woman by herself has no show,' says he. 'You ought to get a good man to take care of it,' says he. Then he saw her looking at my hands, and the game was all off. 'I'm doing the best I can,' says I. 'Mr. Stavey is in the business,' says she. 'He keeps me going,' says she. And all the time I felt—well, sort of sad at her confidence in me."
Bill puffed more furiously than ever. ”

“ He's the only honest machinist in the county, and a good fellow besides, if you take him right." And so here I was.
After a while, Bill wriggled himself out from under the machine, and rose slowly up in the air to the length of about six feet. ”