“I’d say, take him up. I know Jimmy Brennan pretty well. He’s honest and he’s a hard worker and he’s smart. Of course there’s some risk. Maybe things won’t pan out quite as you think. But, after all, you’re not standing to lose very much. Just see that you don’t get too deeply in debt. Don’t borrow more than you can pay. If you decide to go into it have a lawyer draw up the partnership agreement and have everything set down in black and white, so there’ll be no misunderstanding about anything.” Half an hour later Willard was for hurrying down to Jimmy’s boarding-house and telling him that they had decided to take him into partnership, but Tom demurred. “Let’s sleep on it first,” he said. “To-morrow will be time enough.” It rained pitchforks the next morning, but it would have taken more than a rain to dampen their spirits as Tom and Willard ran down to the machine shop after they had disposed of passengers from the first train. Willard, who had his license at last, drove the car, which, even with the top up, was not the dryest place in the world. They found Jimmy at his bench, very smudgy about the face and very black as to hands, and acquainted him with their decision. Jimmy was plainly pleased, and insisted on shaking hands to seal the bargain. After which he led them to the sink and laughed at their efforts to wash off the grease and carbon. It was agreed that they should call for him at the shop in the afternoon and take him to see the car barn, which both boys declared was just the place for the garage.