He told Marie other things, and in return, Marie informed him that he

was just a big-mouthed, lazy brute, and she could curse the day she ever

met him. That was going pretty far. Bud reminded her that she had not

done any cursing at the time, being in his opinion too busy roping him

in to support her.

By that time he had gulped down his coffee, and was into his coat,

and looking for his hat. Marie, crying and scolding and rocking the

vociferous infant, interrupted herself to tell him that she wanted a

ten-cent roll of cotton from the drug store, and added that she hoped

she would not have to wait until next Christmas for it, either. Which

bit of sarcasm so inflamed Bud's rage that he swore every step of the

way to Santa Clara Avenue, and only stopped then because he happened to

meet a friend who was going down town, and they walked together.

At the drug store on the corner of Second Street Bud stopped and bought

the cotton, feeling remorseful for some of the things he had said to

Marie, but not enough so to send him back home to tell her he was sorry.

He went on, and met another friend before he had taken twenty steps.

This friend was thinking of buying a certain second-hand automobile that

was offered at a very low price, and he wanted Bud to go with him and

look her over. Bud went, glad of the excuse to kill the rest of the

forenoon.

They took the car out and drove to Schutzen Park and back. Bud opined

that she didn't bark to suit him, and she had a knock in her cylinders

that shouted of carbon. They ran her into the garage shop and went deep

into her vitals, and because she jerked when Bud threw her into second,

Bud suspected that her bevel gears had lost a tooth or two, and was

eager to find out for sure.

Bill looked at his watch and suggested that they eat first before they

got all over grease by monkeying with the rear end. So they went to the

nearest restaurant and had smothered beefsteak and mashed potato and

coffee and pie, and while they ate they talked of gears and carburetors

and transmission and ignition troubles, all of which alleviated

temporarily Bud's case of cabin fever and caused him to forget that he

was married and had quarreled with his wife and had heard a good many

unkind things which his mother-in-law had said about him.

By the time they were back in the garage and had the grease cleaned out

of the rear gears so that they could see whether they were really burred

or broken, as Bud had suspected, the twinkle was back in his eyes, and

the smiley quirk stayed at the corners of his mouth, and when he was not

talking mechanics with Bill he was whistling. He found much lost motion

and four broken teeth, and he was grease to his eyebrows--in other

words, he was happy.




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