“'Fine!' he says, winkin'. 'I had that attack so's the Cap'n would learn to run on his own hook. I didn't expect quite so much of a run, but I'm satisfied. Don't you worry about my heart disease. That twenty-five hundred cured it. 'Twas all in the way of business,' says Henry G. Bradbury.” “Whew!” whistled Captain Hiram as Barzilla reached into his pocket for pipe and tobacco. “Whew! I should say your partner had a narrer escape. Want to look out sharp for widders. They're dangerous, hey, Sol?” The depot master did not answer. Captain Hiram asked another question. “How'd Jonadab take Hettie's leavin'?” he inquired. “Oh,” said Barzilla, “I don't think he minded so much. He was too crazy about his new auto to care for anything else. Then, too, he was b'ilin' mad 'cause Loveland swore out a warrant against him for speedin'. “'Nice trick, ain't it?' he says. 'I knew Tobe was a poor loser, but I didn't think he'd be so low down as all that. Says I was goin' fifty mile an hour. He! he! Well, I WAS movin', that's a fact. I don't care. 'Twas wuth the twenty-dollar fine.' “'Maybe so,' I says, 'but 'twon't look very pretty to have a special auto constable hauled up and fined for breakin' the law he's s'posed to protect.' “He hadn't thought of that. His face clouded over. “'No use, Barzilla,' says he; 'I'll have to give it up.' “'Guess you will,' says I. 'Automobilin' is--' “'I don't mean automobilin',' he snorts disgusted. 'Course not! I mean bein' constable.' “So there you are! From cussin' automobiles he's got so that he can't talk enough good about 'em. And every day sence then he's out on the road layin' for another chance at Tobias. I hope he gets that chance pretty soon, because--well, there's a rumor goin' round that Loveland is plannin' to swap his car for a bigger and faster one. If he does . . .” “If he does,” interrupted Captain Sol, “I hope you'll fix the next race for over here. I'd like to see you go by, Barzilla.” “Guess you'd have to look quick to see him,” laughed Stitt. “Speakin' about automobiles--” “By gum!” ejaculated Wingate, “you'd have to look somewheres else to find ME. I've got all the auto racin' I want!” “Speakin' of automobiles,” began Captain Bailey again. No one paid the slightest attention. “How's Dusenberry, your baby, Hiram?” asked the depot master, turning to Captain Baker. “His birthday's the Fourth, and that's only a couple of days off.” The proud parent grinned, then looked troubled. “Why, he ain't real fust-rate,” he said. “Seems to be some under the weather. Got a cold and kind of sore throat. Dr. Parker says he cal'lates it's a touch of tonsilitis. There's consider'ble fever, too. I was hopin' the doctor'd come again to-day, but he's gone away on a fishin' cruise. Won't be home till late to-morrer. I s'pose me and Sophrony hadn't ought to worry. Dr. Parker seems to know about the case.”