I think I am making a good investment."

"Not a bit of doubt about it," said Jack. "I wish I had the
chance."

"I hear that Sid Wilcox wanted to get some of the stock, Jack," went
on Ed. "He comes of age soon, and he will have some cash to invest.
But, somehow, there's a prejudice against Sid. He has not been asked
to take stock, though the directors rectors know he has money."

"Well, I guess the trouble is he can't be depended on. He'd be
peddling the stock all over the State, or putting it up for doubtful
transactions, and I guess the directors wouldn't like that. He's a
reckless sort. I shouldn't mind his fits of crankiness, if he would
only leave girls out. But when he goes in for some kind of mischief
harmless in itself, he invariably brings some girl into it, and she
has to suffer in the scrape with him. It's not right of Sid.
But--speaking of angels--there he is now."

Jack's runabout, called the Get There, had been climbing the hill
back of the Whirlwind, and both machines were now on a level stretch
of road and approaching Fisher's store--an "emporium," as the sign
called it, and a place where one could get anything from a watch to
a shoestring, if old Jared Fisher only knew that it was wanted
before he went to town.

It so happened, however, by some strange intervention of providence,
that he never did know in time. But, at any rate, you could always
get soda water--the kind that comes in the "push-in-the-cork
bottles," and that was something.