The Tangled Threads Part 32

"I know; but he was a queer old codger, and he took a great fancy to you when he saw you. Don't you remember? Anyhow, the deed is done."

"And it's ours?--a whole automobile?"

"That's what they say--and it's a three-thousand-dollar car."

"Oh, Herbert!" When Jessica was pleased she clapped her hands; she clapped them now--or rather she clapped the eggs--and in the resulting disaster even the automobile was for a moment forgetten [Transcriber's note: forgotten?]. But for only a moment.

"And to think how we 've wanted an automobile!" she cried, when the impromptu omelet in her lap had been banished into oblivion. "The rides we 'll have--and _we_ won't be pigs! _We 'll_ take our friends!"

"Indeed we will," agreed Herbert.

"And our trips and vacations, and even down town--why, we won't need any carfare. We 'll save money, Herbert, lots of money!"

"Er.--well, an auto costs something to run, you know," ventured Herbert.

"Gasoline, 'course!--but what's a little gasoline? I fancy we can afford that when we get the whole car for nothing!"

"Well, I should say!" chuckled the man.

"Where is it now?"

"In the garage on the estate," returned Herbert, consulting his letter.

"I'm requested to take it away."

"Requested! Only fancy! As if we were n't dying to take it away!"

"Yes, but--how?" The man's face had grown suddenly perplexed.

"Why, go and get it, of course."

"But one can't walk in and pocket a motor-car as one would a package of greenbacks."

"Of course not! But you can get it and run it home. It's only fifty miles, anyhow."

"I don't know how to run an automobile. Besides, there's licenses and things that have to be 'tended to first, I think."

"Well, _somebody_ can run it, can't there?"

"Well, yes, I suppose so. But--where are we going to keep it?"

"Herbert Wheeler, one would think you were displeased that we 've been given this automobile. As if it mattered _where_ we kept it, so long as we had it to keep!"

"Yes, but--really, Jessica, we can't keep it here--in the kitchen," he cried. "It's smashed two eggs already, just the mention of it," he finished whimsically.

"But there _are_ places--garages and things, Herbert; you know there are."

"Yes, but they--cost something."

"I know it; but if the car is ours for nothing, seems as if we might be able to afford its board and keep!"

"Well, by George! it does, Jessica; that's a fact," cried the man, starting to his feet. "There 's Dearborn's down to the Square. I 'll go and see them about it. They 'll know, too, how to get it here. I 'll go down right after supper. And, by the way, how about that omelet? Did our new automobile leave any eggs to make one?"

"Well, a few," laughed Jessica.

There was no elation in Herbert Wheeler's step when, two hours later, the young bank teller came home from Dearborn's.

"Well, I guess we--we're up against it, Jessica," he groaned.

"What's the matter? Won't they take it? Never mind; there are others."

"Oh, yes, they 'll take it and take care of it for fifteen or twenty dollars a month, according to the amount of work I have them do on it."

"Why, I never heard of such a thing! Does it cost that--all that? But then, the _car_ does n't cost anything," she added soothingly, after a pause.

"Oh, no, the car doesn't cost anything--only eight or ten dollars to bring it down by train, or else two dollars an hour for a chauffeur to run it down for us," retorted her husband.

"Eight or ten dollars! Two dollars an hour to run it!" gasped Jessica.

"Why, Herbert, what shall we do? There is only ten dollars now of the household money to last the rest of the month; and there 's this week's grocery bill and a dollar and a half for the laundry to pay!"

"That's exactly it--what shall we do?" snapped Herbert. This thing was getting on his nerves.

"But we must do," laughed Jessica hysterically. "The idea of giving up a three-thousand-dollar automobile because one owes a grocery bill and a dollar and a half for laundry!"

"Well, we can't eat the automobile, and 't won't wash our clothes for us."

"Naturally not! Who wants it to?" Jessica's nerves, also, were feeling the strain.

"We might--sell it."

"Sell it! Sell our automobile!" flamed Jessica; and to hear her, one would think the proposition was to sell an old family heirloom, beloved for years.

Her husband sighed.

"Isn't there something somewhere about selling the pot to get something to put into it?" he muttered dismally, as he rose to lock up the house for the night. "Well, I fancy that's what we 'll have to do--sell the automobile to get money enough to move it!"

Two days later the automobile came. Perhaps the grocer waited.

Perhaps the laundry bill went unpaid. Perhaps an obliging friend advanced a loan. Whatever it was, spic and span in Dearborn's garage stood the three-thousand-dollar automobile, the admired of every eye.

June had gone, and July was weeks old, however, before the preliminaries of license and lessons were over, and Mr. and Mrs.

Herbert Wheeler could enter into the full knowledge of what it meant to be the joyous possessors of an automobile which one could run one's self.

"And now we'll take our friends," cried Jessica. "Who'll go first?"

"Let's begin with the A's--the Arnolds. They 're always doing things for us."

"Good! I'll telephone Mrs. Arnold to-night. To-morrow is Sat.u.r.day, half-holiday. We'll take them down to the lake and come home by moonlight. Oh, Herbert, won't it be lovely?"

"You bet it will," exulted Herbert, as he thought of the Arnolds'