“They don’t stay among me very much,” said Hervey. “What’s fair for one is fair for the other.” Mr. and Mrs. Walton glanced at each other laughing. “Well, of course the scouts didn’t join _you_; you joined them,” said Mr. Walton. “You put the cart before the horse, so to speak.” “Oh bimbo, there’s one horse up there I’d like to ride,” said Hervey. “That’s what I want to do, ride a horse.” During the evening, he strolled out to “see if any fellers were around,” as he said, and at ten o’clock he wandered into the public parking field behind the post office. He did not more than half expect to find his chance acquaintance there, but he was not going to be a quitter in this sacred matter of not taking dares. In these matters, at least, he was a model of honor and punctiliousness. There were but a few cars parked in the dark field. Entrance to this convenient, though poorly patronized place was from Main Street and motorists were required to make their exit through a lane which led out between buildings into Piper Street. Here, almost directly opposite the exit, was the Farrelton Fire House. Hervey found his outlandish friend sitting on a fence which bordered the lane. The stranger looked atrocious enough in the darkness and even Hervey, who took everything as it came, was momentarily conscious of the utter absurdity of this tryst. He would go to any length to confound one who “gave him a dare.” But he had never before gone to so much trouble to hear the dare pronounced. And at such a time! “Well, am I a flat tire?” he asked. “Wait till I see how you roll,” said the challenger. “I wouldn’t take a dare that I’d do something mean for anybody,” said Hervey, “or like if you wanted me to do an errand or something like that --I wouldn’t call that a dare. It’s got to be a stunt.” “Yer startin’ ter hedge?” “No, I’m not starting to hedge, only it’s got to be a stunt. Suppose you dared me to go and buy you a pack of cigarettes. _Nothing doing_, I’m not so easy as that.” “Suppose I dared yer to bust a winder.” “Maybe that would be different,” said Hervey. “Suppose I dared yer ter--ter--tie a tin can on one uv them cars.” “Maybe that would be all right,” said Hervey. “Yer ain’t such a bad kid. Suppose--no, gee, yer only a kid.” “Go on, what is it?” Hervey urged. “I dare yer ter--ter get a bottle and bust it up and throw it down in front of one uv them cars--dat big Packard over dare.” “No, sir, what’s the use of cutting somebody’s tire? Anybody could do that. You call that a stunt?” “Yer scared a gettin’ caught.” “I’m not ascared of getting caught, but what’s the good cutting somebody’s tire? Gee, he might be a nice feller, how do I know?”