“Of course it wasn’t his fault,” said the other dryly. “Well, it was a merciful thing he had you with him, my boy. His mother and I are very grateful to you, Merrick. You did a very plucky thing.” “It wasn’t anything,” muttered Gordon, looking longingly at his wheel. Perhaps Mr. Brent saw that he was more than willing to avoid further expressions of gratitude, for he smiled and said: “Well, that’s all. I wanted to see you and thank you. And as I told your father last night I’m ready and anxious to prove my gratitude to you. If there’s anything I can do, Merrick, you call on me.” “Thank you, sir, but I guess there isn’t anything.” “Perhaps some day there will be. When that time comes don’t forget what I say, Merrick. I wish you’d stop in at the house to-day or to-morrow and see Mrs. Brent. She wants to see you, my boy. And after Morris gets where he can talk to folks I’d like you to pay him a visit too. He doesn’t deserve it, but—well, I guess he’s in for a long, hard siege of it.” “Yes, sir, I will. I—I was going to call to-day and ask after him, but now that I know how he is——” “Better go just the same. My wife is anxious to tell you how she feels about it, Merrick. She can do it better than I can, too. Your father at home?” “No, sir, he’s gone down town.” “That’s where I ought to be. I waited around for the doctor to call. By the way, Merrick, there’s something you can do for me if you will. See this man Stacey and get him to take that automobile away from there. If I talk to him I’ll fly off the handle and tell him what I think of him. I don’t care what he does with the thing. He may burn it up or fix it up or anything he likes, but you tell him from me that he will never get another cent in payment. Will you do that?” “Yes, sir, I’ll see him right away. I guess the car will be worth quite a good deal after it’s fixed up. I mean, sir, I don’t think Mr. Stacey will be out much.” “I don’t care if he is,” replied Mr. Brent grimly. “Morris tells me he paid three hundred and fifty dollars and owes about two hundred more. He will never get it. You tell him so. If he wants to sue, let him. I wish he would!” Mr. Brent flicked angrily with his cane at a spray of leaves that peeked through the fence. “Well, I’ll be grateful if you’ll attend to that for me, Merrick. Good morning.” After Mr. Brent had gone Gordon summoned Fudge with a whistle and that youth sauntered around from the back yard. “I guess Stacey will be mad,” he commented when Gordon had told him of the commission he had accepted. “I’ll go along with you. I like a scrap.” “There isn’t going to be any scrap,” said Gordon. “I’ll just tell him what Mr. Brent says and come away.” “All right. Wait till I get my wheel.”