here'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."

"Humph!" grunted the depot master, "there's only two bein's in creation
that know it all. One's the Almighty and t'other's young Parker. He's
right out of medical school and is just as fresh as his diploma. He
hadn't any business to go fishin' and leave his patients. We lost a
good man when old Dr. Ryder died. He . . . Oh, well! you mustn't
worry, Hiram. Dusenberry'll pull out in time for his birthday. Goin' to
celebrate, was you?"

Captain Baker nodded. "Um-hm," he said. "Sophrony's goin' to bake a
frosted cake and stick three candles on it--he's three year old, you
know--and I've made him a 'twuly boat with sails,' that's what he's been
beggin' for. Ho! ho! he's the cutest little shaver!"

"Speakin' of automobiles," began Bailey Stitt for the third time.

"That youngster of yours, Hiram," went on the depot master, "is the
right kind. Compared with some of the summer young ones that strike this
depot, he's a saint."

Captain Hiram grinned. "That's what I tell Sophrony," he said.
"Sometimes when Dusenberry gets to cuttin' up and she is sort of
provoked, I say to her, 'Old lady,' I say, 'if you think THAT'S a
naughty boy, you ought to have seen Archibald.'"

"Who was Archibald?" asked Barzilla.

"He was a young rip that Sim Phinney and I run across four years a