"And I'm going to make good, all right, or bust tryin'. I'll never get
over the white way you fellers acted with me, never, if I live a hundred
years!" said Hank in a broken voice.

Frank took him over to the bank, where Mr. Langdon was favorably
impressed with his looks, and engaged him, after he had learned what he
knew about the running of a car. Hank had worked in a garage for a year,
and this knowledge was invaluable to him in his business as a chauffeur.

That afternoon Frank and Bluff started for the city, with a list of
things they believed should be purchased before they went forth upon
their journey. Bluff had in mind a wonderful hunting-knife, with an
ivory handle, a picture of which he had seen in the catalogue of a
sporting goods house, and he was secretly determined to possess such a
magnificent tool.

"The time might come when a fellow would have only his trusty blade
between himself and death, and then you just bet he wants a good one.
Think of a big grizzly trying to hug you! Where would your little knife
be, then? You'd soon wish you had that Cuban machete that hangs on the
wall of your father's den, Frank," he said, when the other expostulated
with him about purchasing such a murderous-looking weapon.

And Bluff did buy it, too. All the way home he kept tabs on that
package, and often, when Frank was not looking, he would go through
certain gestures with it gripped in his hand, as though practicing
against that day when the aforesaid grizzly and he would have their
little heated argument for supremacy.

Jerry, too, either felt shocked at the enormous size of the wonderful