."

"I do not object to your price. Come out with me to the garage and I
will show you my car and explain what is being done to it."

Although all the automobile men seemed to defer most respectfully to
Wampus, Mr. Merrick did not neglect to make proper inquiries in regard
to the man. Locally he really was "celebrate" and Uncle John was
assured on all sides that he was fortunate to get so intelligent and
experienced a chauffeur as this same Wampus.

"He seems to have instinctive knowledge of all machinery," said one
informant, "and can handle perfectly any car that is made. The only
trouble with the fellow is that he is conceited."

"I've noticed that," returned Mr. Merrick.

"Another thing," said the gentleman; "don't believe implicitly all
that Wampus tells you. He has a habit of imagining things. But he is a
faithful, honest fellow, for all that, and will handle your car better
than any other man you could get in Denver--or anywhere in the West, I
imagine."

So Wampus was engaged, and putting the man's references and
indorsements all together Mr. Merrick felt that he had gained a prize.

When the big Major, returning from his drive, escorted Myrtle Dean to
the elevator, the girl was joyously using her new crutches. Patsy and
Beth met her and said they had important news to communicate. Not
until she was in her own room, seated in a comfortable chair and
gazing at them anxiously, did they tell the poor waif of the good
fortune in store for her.

"Uncle John," announced Patsy, "has invited you to join our party and
go to California with us."

Myrtle stared a moment, as if trying to realize what that meant. The
tiny Mumbles, sitting beside the chair with his head cocked to one
side, suddenly made a prodigious leap and landed in Myrtle's lap,
where he began licking her chin and wagging his stumpy tail as if
seconding the invitation. As the girl stroked his soft hair her eyes
filled with tears.

"Oh, you are all so kind to me!" she sobbed, losing her composure.
"But I can't go! Of course I can't go."

"Why not?" asked Beth, smiling.

"It would be an--impersition!" Poor Myrtle sometimes stumbled over big
words. "I know that. I can't let you burden your happy party with a
poor cripple, just because your hearts are kind and you pity me!"

"Nonsense!" said Beth. "You're not a cripple, dear; you're just an
invalid, and will soon be as strong as any of us. We have invited you,
Myrtle, because we all like you, a