we hope to catch the auto thieves when everyone else has fallen down on the job?” demanded his brother.

“We might be lucky. And, anyway, I’ve had an idea that might be worked out.”

“What is it?”

“Come with me and I’ll show you.”

Mystified, Joe followed his brother out of the house and they went down the street in the direction of a well-known local automobile agency.

As they walked, Frank explained his plan. At first Joe was dubious.

“It couldn’t be done.”

“Why not? All we need is a little capital, and we have that. Then if we have nerve enough to go through with the rest of it, we may be lucky enough to trap the thieves.”

“Too many ‘ifs’ and ‘maybes’ to suit me,” demurred Joe. “Still, if you think we could get away with it, I’m with you.”

“We may fail, but our money won’t be altogether wasted. We’ve always wanted a car, anyway.”

“That’s true. We’ll go and look this one over.”

Arriving at the automobile agency, they were greeted by the manager, who knew them well.

“What is it this morning, boys?” he asked, with a smile. “Can I sell you a car today?”

He meant it as a joke, and he was greatly surprised when Frank answered:

“It all depends. We’ll buy one if you can make us a good price.”

“Why, that’s fine,” said the manager, immediately becoming businesslike. “What would you like to see? One of the new sport models?”

“No,” replied Joe. “We’re in the market for a used car.”

“We heard you had Judge Keene’s old car here,” added Frank.

“Why, yes, we have. He turned it in and bought a new model. But you wouldn’t want that car, boys. It looks like a million dollars, but it’s all on the surface. I’ll be frank with you⁠—Judge Keene said the engine was no good, and I agree with him. It was put out by a new company that went bankrupt about a year later. They put all their money into the bodies of the cars and not very much into the engines. You would be wasting your money.”

“We want a good-looking car, cheap,” insisted Frank. “I don’t care so much about the engine. It’s the looks that count this time.”

The manager shook his head.

“Well,” he said, “I suppose you lads like to have a car that’ll knock everybody’s eye out, and I’m not denying this is a dandy-looking boat. But I won’t guarantee its performance.”

“We don’t care, if the price is right. Where is it?”

The manager led the boys to the back of the showrooms, where they found a luxurious-looking auto. It looked, so Joe afterward said, “like a million dollars.” With a fresh coat of paint it would have seemed like a model straight from the factory.

“What do you think of it?” Frank asked his brother.

“A peach.”

“Boys, I hate to see you buy this car,” the manager protested. “Take the money and put it into a good, standard car that you can depend on. You’ll have more trouble running this automobile than the looks are worth. If you weren’t friends of mine I wouldn’t waste my time telling you this, for I’m anxious to get this mass of junk off my hands. But your father would never forgive me if he thought I’d stung you boys with a cement mixer like this one.”

“It’s the looks that count with us,” said Frank. “How much do you want for it?”

“I’ll sell it to you for four hundred dollars.”

“Four hundred!” exclaimed Joe. “Why, that looks like a three-thousand-dollar car!”

“It looks like one, but it isn’t,” said the Manager. “You’ll be lucky to drive a thousand miles in it before the engine gives out.”

“We won’t drive any thousand miles in it,” Joe remarked mysteriously.

“Don’t let anyone else have the car, and we’ll go and get the money,” Frank told the man.

They left the manager smoothing his hair and pondering on the folly of boys in general, although he was secretly relieved at having got rid of the imposing looking car, which he had regarded as a dead loss.

Going directly to the bank, the boys withdrew four hundred dollars from their account, after cautioning the teller not to mention the matter to their father.

“We’re going to give him a little surprise,” said Frank.

“All right,” said the teller, wondering what the boys wanted with such a large sum, “I won’t tell him.”

Back to the agency they went, handed over the money, and drove out in state, Frank at the wheel of their new possession. The car was indeed a splendid-looking vehicle, having excellent lines, good fittings, and a quantity of nickel trimmings that enhanced its luxurious appearance. Frank soon found that the manager had spoken correctly when he said that the value was all on the surface, for the engine began giving trouble before they had driven two blocks.

“However,” he said to his brother, “this old boat may earn us a lot more than the money we paid for it, and if it doesn’t we’ll have plenty of fun tinkering around and putting a real engine in it.”

They drove into the yard of their home. Aunt Gertrude spied them first and uttered a squawk of astonishment, then fled into the house to inform Mrs. Hardy of this latest evidence of imbecility on the part of the lads. Their mother came out, and the boys admitted that the car was theirs.

“We’re not extravagant, Mother,” they protested. “We got it for a certain reason, and we’ll tell you all about it later. The old boat isn’t as expensive as it looks. We picked it up cheap.”

Mrs. Hardy had implicit confidence in her sons and when they said there was a reason behind the purchase she was content to bide her time and await their explanations. She was curious to know why they had made this extraordinary move, but was too discreet to ask any questions.

With the car in the garage, the boys went downtown again and bought several cans of automobile paint. And, for the rest of the week, they busied themselves transforming

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