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Show I OLD HAND WITH CARS I By F. L. Rowley THE couple that entered my garage ga-rage on a c .ol afternoon last autumn looked nountl as if they expected to flnil a fire-snorting dragon. I could see that they were pitifully piti-fully young to elope; yet this was their obvious Intention. The glim girl carried her overnight case Just a bit too casually. From time to time she turned her pretty, un-painted un-painted face up to the husky broad-shouldered broad-shouldered youth at her side for reassurance. "We'd like to rent one of your cars." said the boy carelessly. "Bill Shipley said you might let us have one." This put things In a different light. Bill Shipley and I were old motor rivals. I couldn't Imagine why Bill would send a couple of nice kids like this over to me. Cars was my hobby not my business. busi-ness. Why I hadn't rented a car out in almost a year, "Plan on getting spliced, doyT" ! asked Innocently. They exchanged glances. Then the young chap put a muscular arm around the girl's shoulders and turning to me with dlrtct look that I liked, said: "Yes, we do. Didn't think It showed. Do we get the car?" "On one condition," I said, walking walk-ing over to the best of my three old cars, "and that Is, don't go over forty-five By the way, whert ye headed?" "Shelbyville," said the boy after hesitating a second. I believed him. Shelbyville boasted the only Justice of the Peace within eighty mileg. "Here's the key." I said few minutes later after the car was gassed up "Now remember, not over forty-five. Pay me when ye get back. Good luck to ye." There were tears of gratitude In the girl's eyes as she waved from the end of the drive. There was a guilty little lump In my own throat I hadn't exactly been on the level with them. Hoping they wouldn't hold It against me I hustled over to the telephone. Bill Shipley answered with growl. When he heard my voice he simmered down. It was the first time he'd given rr.e it civil word since I had bested him in the summer sum-mer road test. "Say Mac, did two kids show up to rent one of your wrecks?" "Yes." I replied, ignoring the crack, "and I gave them the best In the shop. Do you know them?" "Do I know them? The husky kid Is Whitey McPhail, the governor's gover-nor's son. I'd like to be there when the governor gets his hand on you. I sent them over to you because I know none of your old cars can reach Shelbyville In less than two days. Ha!" "Why you" I didn't get any further. Two well dressed men were standing at my elbow. Hanging up on Bill I turned to face them. 'This Is Governor McPhail." said the shorter of the two Introducing Intro-ducing tall gray-haired man with a worried look. "His son" "Yei, I know," I said looking at the clock over my workbench. "It is now one-thirty. At exactly two o'clock the car Whitey rented will run out of gas ten miles this side of Shelbyville. It's up to you gentlemen gentle-men to be there." I was eating supper In the garage ga-rage when the little group returned It seemed the Governor liked the girl and decided upon a big wedding wed-ding for his son. Everyone was beaming. Even Bill Shipley had a half-smile on his usually sour face. "It sure was clever of you to measure that gas so the car would atop when It did," said Governor McPhail opening his wallet. "Well," I said wryly at Bill "I'm an old hand with cars." "Oh, we put lots of gas tn the car," said the girl brightly. "We were delayed by a flat tire and some motor trouble." And that was the first time In twenty years that I heard Bill Shipley laugh out loud. And you know In spite of myself I had to laugh too. Then, shaking our hands, Whitey McPhail invited both me and Bill to the wedding. And we'r going too in Bill's car. |