"He's usually here when I come, sir," replied the perturbed and conscience-stricken Wiggins.

"Well, to-morrow morning when he comes send him in to me, but--Wiggins!

Don't say a word what I want him for. You can go now."

A door banged, and Jimmy heard the superintendent's voice a.s.sume a highly confidential tone.

"That makes it easy, if he's the man you're after. I doubt that, however. This chap is near-sighted and wears blue gla.s.ses. But here's what I'll do. When Mr. Gollop comes to-morrow I'll keep him here in my office and will telephone you, then you can come out at once and see if he's the culprit. Will that do?"

"Certainly the very best way to do it," said the deputy sheriff, and then Jimmy heard him depart with apologies and thanks for a cigar that Holmes had evidently given him.

Immediately afterward the door opened and the superintendent growled, "Now you see how evil companionship contaminates a man! You've got me into this infernal mixup of yours; but--hang it all!--I can't see a good man get the worst of it on account of that egotistical, swell-headed Granger. And--besides, I've had a letter from the old man himself telling me confidentially that the Martin people recommend you very highly and suggesting that in case you get into trouble through the Judge I'm to look out for you to the limit. The limit with old Tom Sayers has never yet been found. So I've got to make good. Besides all that, there's another reason that's entirely my own, which is that I think this shebang needs your services, and I work first, last and all the time for the best interests of the Sayers Automobile Company. So I'm not going to let a tin rooster like Granger interfere with our business in any way if I can help it. Where's your luggage?"

"Over in Mrs. Clancey's house--the place where you recommended me to stop while here."

The superintendent stepped to the door leading out into the office and beckoned to a confidential clerk, who promptly came into the office.

"Smith, go over to Mrs. Clancey's and pack Mr. Gollop's suit case and bring it here as soon as you can. Tell her Mr. Gollop has gone--called away hurriedly; just in time to catch a train; no time to pack. And--see here, Smith--you're to forget it all the very minute after the job is done! Understand?"

"Very well, sir," said Smith, with a grin, and disappeared.

Before the door had closed Holmes was at the plant telephone, and Jimmy was compelled to admire the way in which he avoided all waste of time.

"Garage?" questioned the superintendent. "Good! Tell Hawkins to get out that new roadster we fixed up for Mr. Sayers, see that she's all ready for a run, and bring her around to the office door for me."

As he hung up the receiver the whistle blew and outside could be heard the droning diminuendo of machinery brought to a stop, denoting that another day's work was done, and this was followed by the thrumming of feet and the murmur of voices as the workmen departed. The superintendent got up and pulled down the window shade.

"Just as well to make certain that no one sees you sitting in here," he said, as he again reached for the 'phone, called up his home and said that he would not be home until late that night because he was detained on business, and then proceeded in a deliberate and methodical way to clear up his desk.

It was just twenty minutes later when the two men walked out of the office and to the waiting roadster. The big plant looked idle and deserted. The superintendent gave some words of caution to the man Hawkins, took his seat, told Jim to climb in, and the machine moved slowly forward, picked up speed as if glad to be off on a journey, and began singing its steady, rhythmic song of the road.

"I've got twenty-eight miles to run to get you across the state line,"

said the superintendent, settling into his seat and handling the wheel like a veteran driver. "In summer I could do it in just twenty-eight minutes with this car, but it'll take a little longer now. Once across the line you can twiddle your thumb up against your nose at anything Granger can do, and go back to New York, or any other place you choose, to make out your written report for the old man. Either give it to the Martin people, or forward it to the works in my care, because I can't give you the old man's address. He jumps here and there like a kangaroo when he goes on one of his scouting trips. We never know where he is.

Some car, this, eh?"

Jim's teeth rattled as he shouted his agreement; but, notwithstanding his desire to get out of the state, he would have preferred to take a little more time for the journey. The frost-laden wind threatened to tear him to pieces; behind the goggles with which he had been provided his eyes streamed rivulets of tears, and he wondered how many somersaults the car would turn if it happened to hit any solid obstacle.

The coolness of Holmes, who appeared to be lolling back in his seat with an air of calm indifference to wind, weather, and speed, exasperated him, but he dared not show the white feather and beg for mercy, so shut his teeth, clenched his hands and tried to keep from holding his breath.

Their pace did not slacken in the least when they came to two white posts and he heard the superintendent's shout, "Across, all right! Two miles more to town and I think we'll get to the railway station in time for you to catch the eastbound flyer. Looked up the time-table in the office before we started. Take chances on speed laws----" and then fragmentary words of comment not always audible.

They whizzed through the outskirts of a town, skidded a corner, saw a railway station from behind which a plume of smoke and steam was ascending, and came to an abrupt halt by a platform. Jim had no time to purchase a ticket but made a flying leap with his suitcase and caught the train after it was in motion. He looked back and waved his hand at the superintendent, who was already turning the roadster for its home journey, and it seemed to Mr. James Gollop that this was the first time in several hours when he had been able to take a full, comforting, and free breath.

"If that sort of riding is part of the regular automobile business," he said to himself as he fell into the nearest seat, "you're foredoomed to be a failure, Jimmy, my boy! You ought to practice on something slow, like a comet or a cyclone!"

His equanimity restored he went to the Pullman conductor and applied for a berth.

"Got just one left--an upper--number seventeen. Here, boy, go and bring the gentleman's baggage to seventeen in this car."

"Everything is coming my way! My luck has turned!" quoth Jimmy, relieved by the knowledge that he would not be compelled to ride all night in a day coach. "She's a joyous world, after all!"

So happy was he in his optimism that when installed in his Pullman seat he gave the porter a bright, new dollar, and began to think forward to the delights of the dining car. The man who had the lower berth in the section seemed one of those individuals who prefer to keep aloof from others; for, absorbed in a newspaper that he held high above his face to catch the light from behind, he had never even so much as glanced at his prospective section companion. As if he had finished reading something of especial interest he now for the first time lowered it and suddenly sat erect and exclaimed, "Well, I'll be confounded!"

And Jimmy, startled, recognized Judge Granger and retorted, "You confounded well might be! Toss you to see who jumps off this train--you or I."

CHAPTER XIII

"This," growled the Judge, glaring at Jimmy, "is an outrage!"

"Agreed!" retorted Jimmy, at first sufficiently annoyed to have wished that he and the Judge were in some situation where they might punch each other's heads, and then, reverting to his habitual good humor, smiling and finally emitting a chuckle. "You do seem to get in my way a lot.

Honestly, you've no idea what an annoyance you are to me."

"Annoyance to you? That's good!" growled the Judge. "I annoy you!"

"You do! You do!" retorted Jimmy. "I suppose you've caused me more trouble one time and another than any other man I ever met. Isn't it about time we buried the hatchet and forgot all about that joke of mine up at Yimville? I've apologized in every way I could think of."

As if the reference to Yimville had proved unfortunate, the Judge's face flushed with anger and he bent forward and shook a threatening finger at Jimmy and declared, "I never make terms with a malefactor. If you had an idea that I am the type of man to use as the b.u.t.t for a silly, asinine jest, I'll teach you to think differently. Mark that and remember it!"

"Oh, come now!" Jimmy protested. "That's no way to look at things. It's unbecoming of a man of your importance to cherish animosity for an insignificant chap like I am. If we can't be friends, you might at least be big enough to leave me alone."

The Judge snorted with contempt.

"How far are you going?" he finally growled, after a prolonged inspection of the imperturbable Jimmy.

"Baltimore. Why? Like to get off where I do so you can keep with better company than yourself? You can get off there if you wish. I don't own the town."

This seemed the final straw to the camel's burden; for the Judge suddenly popped up in his seat, called to the Pullman conductor who happened to be standing at a little distance down the aisle, and when the latter approached asked, "Isn't there any possible way of exchanging my berth for another?"

"Yes, do help him out, Conductor," implored Jimmy with marked solicitude. "He doesn't like me a bit."

The Pullman potentate stared at the two men incredulously, now that he noted their physical similarity, and, accepting it as a banter, remarked, "Can't see why twin brothers should disagree."

"I'll not brook any of your impudence," thundered the Judge in such unmistakable anger that the conductor speedily became apologetic, and consulted his book.

"Beg pardon, sir," he said; "a stateroom reservation ordered for Harmonsville has been canceled. You are going through to Washington, aren't you? Well, you can have that on payment of the extra fare."

"Let him have it. I'll pay the difference if he's at all short," Jimmy urged, hopefully. "It's very kind of you, Conductor, because he's not feeling at all well. What he needs is a long rest."

"What you need is a jail," growled the Judge, and ordered his luggage removed to the vacant stateroom.

"See that the windows are closed, Conductor," said Jimmy. "He catches cold so easily. Frightfully delicate and sensitive. Been that way since he was but a dear little child. Do take care of him, won't you?"

But the Judge, purple with anger, stalked majestically away from his tormentor without arriving at any adequate reply, and Jimmy was left alone. In the gray, cold dawn of four o'clock the next morning, as Jim followed the porter out, he paused behind just long enough to rap loudly on the Judge's stateroom door and to explain, "Baltimore. I'm leaving you now. Pleasant journey!"

But presumably from the Judge's remarks, this little parting courtesy was not appreciated, although it afforded the cheerful Jimmy some amus.e.m.e.nt as he made his way out of the station. Indeed, considering that inhospitable hour of the morning, he was made fairly happy by what the Judge said. Furthermore, to palliate the dreariness of the winter morning, was the thought that now he could break the news of his discharge to his mother because he could couple it with a hopeful prospect.

For two whole days, and considerable portions of the nights, Jimmy plunged headlong into his proposed organization of a sales and publicity department for the Sayers Company, and his lively imagination stimulated itself as his enthusiasm grew. Expert salesman that he was, and untrammeled by traditions of the motor car trade, his originality found full vent, and, all unaware of it, he proposed plans that would have been seized upon by any progressive and daring firm in the automobile industry. In fact "he builded better than he knew"; but, after his ma.n.u.script had been duly typed and mailed, he suffered anxious hours thinking of how this or that part of his scheme might have been improved, and went through all that mental agony with which every composer reviews his completed work when too late for alteration. At the end of the second day's wait he became fearful, and at the end of the third day was beginning to lose hope. On the fourth day he said, somberly, "Well, Maw, I reckon it was a flivver! I've got to get back to New York to-morrow and look for a job in my own line."