“Tom,” he said finally, “I couldn’t find a hundred and twenty-five dollars for you right now to save my life. Maybe I could find fifty if Saunders would let you have the automobile for that much down, but it would be risky, I’m afraid. Suppose you didn’t make your scheme work, my boy? Then how would you meet your payments?” “I don’t see how it could help working, father,” replied Tom earnestly. “I guess there’s fully twenty to thirty folks going back and forth from the station every day.” “More, but they don’t all ride in hacks. Lots of them take the car and lots more walk.” “But they wouldn’t so many of them walk or take the car if they could get up to town quickly and comfortably in an automobile.” “Perhaps not. You can’t tell, though. Besides, I don’t know as I’d want to do anything to hurt Connors’ business, Tom. He’s been doing the station livery for a good many years now.” “There wouldn’t be anything to keep him from putting on an automobile, too, father, if he found I was getting the business away from him.” “But supposing he did? Then where would you be?” Tom was silent. Mr. Benton shook his head again. “I appreciate your wanting to make money, Tom,” he said kindly, “but I guess the best thing to do is to find some work somewhere and not risk any capital. A hundred and twenty-five dollars looks pretty big to your daddy these days!” CHAPTER II AND SO HAS WILLARD That ought to have settled the matter; but, although Tom, refusing comfort from his mother, went to bed telling himself that it was going to be the paper mill after all, somehow the next morning brought renewed hope. While he was dressing he tried to think of some way in which to get hold of that automobile, and, although he hadn’t succeeded by breakfast time, he nevertheless went downstairs to the morning meal in high spirits. There’s something about a fresh, dew-sprinkled June morning that makes a chap believe he can do almost anything if he tries hard enough! When Tom started out of the house he was surprised to see Willard Morris leaning over the gate. “I’ve been waiting for you,” announced Willard. “If we have time let’s stop and look at that buzz-wagon you were talking about yesterday. Will you?” “Yes; but I guess there isn’t much use, Will. I spoke to father, and he said he couldn’t afford it. At least, he says he couldn’t afford to pay a hundred and twenty-five. He might pay fifty, but he’s afraid I might not make a go of it.” “What did he say?” asked Willard. Tom narrated the conversation of the evening before, and Willard nodded once or twice, as he heard Mr. Benton’s objections. “Well, maybe he’s right, Tom. There isn’t any sure thing about it, and that’s so, but he loses sight of the fact that, even if the scheme didn’t work, you’d still have the automobile, and ought to get as much for it as you gave; that is, if it’s as good as you say it is. Anyway, we’ll look it over.”