four weeks of wandering life, going from point to point and trying
to talk up the merits of his wagon. He had hoped to establish
a small factory, there to build such wagons to order at high prices.

For some reason he had met with no success in that enterprise.
After his realization of failure Newbegin Titmouse had felt that
he would be content if he could sell the wagon at anything like
a good price. Failing to sell it, he hoped to be able to get
his money back through renting the wagon.

Now he stood watching this high school boy from Gridley, wondering
just how much rental he could extort from this wiry, athletic-looking
football player.

"There will be a car along in about five minutes," mused Dick
aloud. "I must try to take that car. Thank you very much for
your kindness, Mr. Titmouse."

"But we haven't come to any understanding yet," cried the wagon's
owner as Dick turned and walked away.

"Why, yes, we have, sir," Prescott answered pleasantly over his
shoulder. "We have come to the understanding that you can't afford
to come down to our price, and that we can't go up to yours.
So I'm going back to make some other arrangements for a wagon."

"Wait a minute!" interjected Newbegin Titmouse, stepping after
the boy from Gridley. "Maybe I can drop off a dollar or so on
the price."