"So you are the brave boy I've heard about, are you?" said the stranger,
smiling at the bandaged boy from Central High.

"I know how brave you've heard me," said Billy soberly. "I do a lot of
hollering when they are plastering me up."

The man laughed and said: "Just the same I am glad to know you. My name
seems to have got away from me for the time being. My mind's slipped a cog,
as you might say. What do they call you, son?"

Billy told him his name. "And," he added, "I was right there in front of
Chet Belding's father's jewelry store when that automobile knocked you
down."

"You don't mean it?"

"Yes, sir. I saw the machine. It was a Perriton car all right. It might
even have been Pretty Sweet's car. But it wasn't Pretty Sweet driving it, I
am sure."

The boy's earnestness caught the man's full attention. "I guess this Sweet
boy they tell about is a friend of yours, son?" he said.

"He is a friend all right, all right," said Billy Long. "And I never knew
it till right here when I got hurt. Purt--that's what we call him--is a
good fellow. And I am sure he wouldn't do such a thing as to knock you down
and then run away without finding out if he had hurt you."

"I don't know how that may be," said the man seriously. "But whoever it was