A FRIEND IN NEED
The Speedwell boys went home in no very pleasant frame of mind.
Heretofore they had experienced sufficient trouble through Chance Avery
and his brother to know that the superintendent of the Darringford shops
was quite capable of giving Chance great help in his attempt to “get
even” with anybody whom he disliked.
And neither Chance nor Francis Avery could ever forgive the Speedwell
boys for beating Chance in the manufacturers’ motorcycle races held at
the Riverdale Baseball Park not long before. Chance had been picked by
the superintendent of the Darringford shops to ride a Flying Feather,
and carry the colors of the local shops to victory. But at the last
moment Dan Speedwell, likewise riding one of the Darringfords’ machines,
had beaten out the field and left Chance sadly in the rear.
“And they are going to make it impossible—if they can—for us to do
anything to Chance and Burton in this endurance test of autos that Mr.
Briggs is financing,” grumbled Billy. “Oh, pshaw, Dan! What makes folks
so mean?”
“I don’t know. We’ll ask Doc Bugs,” laughed Dan, referring to one of the
academy instructors who was very much inclined to harp upon the microbe
theory, and bacilli. “There’s something mean got into Chance, and his
brother’s caught it. That’s all I know about it.”
“But we’re not going to let them beat us so easy,” growled Billy.
“Not so’s you’d notice it,” agreed the older brother.
“What will we do?”
“First we’ll go over to the shops to-morrow and find out just where we
stand.”
“But if they won’t fix the auto there, what will we do? We can’t cart
the machine clear to Compton, and it would cost a mint of money to have
men from the manufacturing plant come here to make repairs.”
“We’ll see,” said Dan. “Let’s sleep over it.”
That was like Dan; he always thought a thing out by himself. Billy, more
impulsive and ready to discuss a point, found his brother sometimes
exasperating. It kept him “guessing,” he complained; he never knew just
what Dan would finally do.
He was not surprised, however, the next afternoon after the second
session, that Dan should head for the Darringford shops instead of
taking wheel for home. They came to the small gate in the stockade-fence
that surrounded the machine shops, spoke to the gate-keeper, and went in
to the repair department. When Mr. Hardy saw them in the doorway he
looked slightly discomposed. In truth his somewhat smutted face changed
color.
“Sorry, boys,” he said, hurrying toward them; “we haven’t had a chance
to touch your machine yet. Hurried to death.”
“Of course, your outside jobs take their regular turn, don’t they, Mr.
Hardy?” asked Dan, smoothly.
“Oh, of course! Er—that is—it’s the general rule.”
“Then no other outside job has been put in ahead of ours?”
“Why—now——”
“What do those fellows want?” asked a sharp voice suddenly, and Dan and
Billy turned to see the superintendent of the shops eyeing them with
disfavor.
Mr. Hardy waved the boys toward Mr. Avery.
“You’ll have to talk to him, boys,” he said. “I haven’t anything to do
with it.”
“What are they bothering you about, Hardy?” demanded the superintendent.
“We have been waiting some days for our automobile to be fixed, Mr.
Avery,” said Dan, firmly.
“And you’ll wait a few days longer, I guess,” said the man,
unpleasantly.
“But we are in a hurry, and the understanding was——”
“With whom did you have any understanding when you brought that car
here?” interrupted Avery.
“Mr. Hardy.”
“And if he told you that he could put aside our regular work for outside
jobs, he overstepped his bounds.”
“He told us nothing of the kind,” said Dan, quickly. “He only said our
car should have precedence over other outside work that might come in.”
“Well, it will,” said Avery, with a laugh.
“It hasn’t,” exclaimed Dan, sharply.
“What’s that?”
“Since our machine was brought here Burton Poole’s has been repaired and
repainted. Ours hasn’t been touched.”
“Look here, young saucebox!” exclaimed Avery, in a passion, “Who told
you to come here and tell me my business? Your car will wait its turn——”
“You gave its turn to Poole’s car,” declared Dan, stubbornly. “You know
you did. You do not mean that our car shall be repaired.”
Somebody had stopped quietly behind them. A stern voice said:
“What’s the matter, Avery?”
“Mr. Robert!” exclaimed Billy.
Robert Darringford stood there, his automobile coat thrown back, his
Norfolk jacket unbelted, and cap and goggles pushed back from his
pleasant face. He was just drawing off his gauntlets.
“What’s the matter, Mr. Avery?” he repeated, as the flaming face of the
superintendent was turned toward him.
“These young rascals have become impudent!” declared the superintendent.
“I’ve told you before, Mr. Robert, that I consider your attitude toward
these Speedwells as utterly wrong——”
“Come, come,” said the younger Darringford, good-naturedly enough, yet
with a tone of voice that halted Avery in his headlong speech. “Let’s
get at the trouble. Of course, Dan and Billy are my friends. I have told
you that several times.”
“And they presume upon your notice of them,” declared the
superintendent. “Your undignified treatment of them gives them a license
which they abuse.”
“And how have they abused my kindness now?” queried Darringford,
gravely.
“They have brought us an old, ramshackle car here to be patched up. You
know Hardy’s department is working overtime. All outside work must take
its chance. We cannot do this now.”
“And the boys are impatient, are they?” demanded Darringford, smiling,
however, quite kindly upon Dan and Billy.
“When we brought our car here, the shop was not so busy,” said Dan,
interrupting. “Mr. Avery knows that. He has had a car repaired here
since ours has stood on the floor.”
“How is this, Avery?” asked Mr. Robert, sharply.
“The boy tells an untruth,” snapped the other. Then, thinking better of
it, he added: “Or, at least, I know nothing about it. I only know that
Burton Poole had a machine here to be fixed, and I ordered Hardy to get
it out of the way.”
“And why not this one?” queried Mr. Robert, pointing to the drab car.
“Well——”
“Chance is driving Poole’s car, isn’t he?” asked Mr. Robert, with marked
emphasis.
“Well, sir! You know yourself we are over-driven here!” cried Avery, in
despair of clearing his skirts completely of the ugly charge of
favoritism.
“Quite true. We will excuse you, Mr. Avery. I will attend to the
Speedwells’ car,” said the young proprietor of the shops.
He turned his back on his superintendent—not without a little bow,
however—and said pleasantly to Dan:
“Now, young man, as spokesman for you and your brother, tell me how you
came in possession of a Breton-Melville car, this year’s type, racing
rig, and apparently one that has been misused, at that?”
Dan laughed. Mr. Robert’s keen eye was not to be mistaken. One would not
have thought that he had more than glanced casually at the wreck of
Maxey Solomons’ automobile.
But between them (for Billy was bound to put in a word here and there)
the Speedwells told him of their good fortune in obtaining possession of
the wrecked car. Mr. Robert grew more and more interested. He began to
take off his coat, and his cap and auto-goggles followed. Mr. Avery
waited in the near distance, covertly watching the “young boss.”
“It’s a great chance for you, boys!” declared Mr. Robert. “Why, do you
know, I’m going to enter for Briggs’ endurance test myself. I believe
I’ve got a car that can even beat out a Breton-Melville,” and his eyes
twinkled. “But it would be too bad if your car wasn’t ready in time, so
that we could find out just how good a machine it is.”
“We mean to get it repaired somehow,” said Dan, firmly. “If not here——”
“And why not here?” demanded Mr. Robert. He glanced quickly around and
began to strip off his Norfolk jacket. “Hey, Hardy! Have you got an
extra suit of overalls anywhere about? I want ’em.”
“Sure, Mr. Robert,” declared the foreman, coming briskly forward.
“What Mr. Avery says is quite true, boys,” declared young Darringford,
seriously. “This department is driven to death. But then—I’m sort of an
outsider and I’m not driven to death. I’m going to shuck my coat, and
get into these duds—that’s it, Hardy! thank you—and then we’ll see what
is the matter with the vitals of that machine. Mr. Avery,” he added,
with a humorous twist of his lips, “won’t mind if I use the tools here
to repair your machine. I am rather a privileged character myself about
the shops. But you know, Dan and Billy, we always back up our foremen
and superintendent; and it is quite true that the men are too busy to do
your work at present.”