Short Story A Transaction In Cars

Auckland Star, Volume LXXI, Issue 162, 10 July 1940, Page 15

Short Story A Transaction In Cars

«W HAT vve nced ' 8 a littlc car »" ® aid Evelyn decisively, "and if y OU weren't bo stingy you'd buy one." I began to protest. "Just because Jones had bought a second-hand, decrepit-looKing thing and is taking his wife out—" "Anyway it is a motor car," interrupted my wife. "You know that old proverb, 'half a loaf is better than none.' " "Kut that doesn't apply to motor cars," I objected. "Of course it does." "Surely not. What on earch could| one do with half a motor car? two wheels, half an engine, and so on. Why, it wouldn't go!" "Don't be silly. You know perfectly what I mean. You re just trying to wriggle out of buying one, that's all." "But think of the expense! We shoi>* need rugs, gauntlets, maps and what not.'' "And tin- 'bus," added my wife. "And the 'bus." I reiterated, "thouch I'm thinking that would be the cheapest item of i lit 1 lot. "Of course it would!" cried Evelyn triumphantly. "[ hoy Ye „ot verv expensive, and I could get some rugs verv cheaply at the sales. Besides, I called to see my uncle yesterday and lie's promised to let me have his old motoring coat and several road maps and things Isn't he a dear!" "He's likely to prove dear," I sa id despondently. I might have known Evelyn had arranged everything before she tack led me. That evening the miracle happened— for miracle it assuredly was. On the way home from the office I met a grimy perspiring man. He stood, oily hands on hips, looking at a very, very old car. bitter measured tones lie was telling the But lie wasn't just looking at it. In old crock just what he thought about it. "YVhat s up?" I said breezily, "won't it go';" He turned an oiled-streaked face in my direction, swallowed hard and regarded me witheringly. ° "Of course it will go," he said with dead sarcasm. "The trouble is it won't go with me in it. Oil, yes, it will go— if I push the darned thing," he said bitterly. Then his eyes gleamed. "Look here, lie said, "how would you like to buy it? I'll sell it to you for a fiver." I looked at the 'bus critically. To my inexperienced eye it appeared to be> at least ten years old. but it had been recently painted and the tyres were in excellent condition. "Right-lio," I said, "I'll buy it." Half an hour later, five pounds the poorer, but with my new acquisition lafely housed in Bagg's garage, I bounded into the house and sought my wife. "Don't you ever say I'm stingy again," I said. "You wanted me to get a motor car. didn't you? Well. I've bought one!" Evelyn's eyes sparkled. She clasped her hands together with delight. "Really! Now we can go for that motoring tour round Scotland, can't we?" "Yes," I said dubiously.- "Of-course' the 'bus isn't new; We shan't have to run it up too many hills." "No, I suppose not." Then suddenly, "How much did you pay for it?"

B Y Colin Robertson

I evaded this leading question "As Scr are P'—i with it my dear « 1 fo/ ffi got Tut i a „ re iA, darling ; real, y ! Can we «r r 111,8 week-end I" "It's S a ritl j °' ly WCU hope so '" 1 Ba ' ( i. There L - 88 ! ga / age at the moment, inere are just a few trifling repairs I cost." r ° and find what H will Bac^mnL peached the garage I found t ng his pipe and looking at Wl l h f n alr of dejection. Well, what 8 the verdict?" I said. JJaggs removed the pipe from his mouth, stroked his chin reflectively, and °v tw "rf '1 mU , Ch the Bame hopeless way that a doctor does when his patient has got double pneumonia, pleurisy consumption and whooping cough all at the same time. 8 «hlT e \w" h ® began " ' T,n afraid she s a bit far gome. But I've made a ist of the parts you'll need to make her really reliable. It's for you to , decide whether it's worth it or not." [ He pulled a long strip of paper from his pocket and handed it to me half apologetically. "Mind you. I'm not saying this 'ere machine wasn t a good 'un in its dav. but I reckon it's seen a lot o' wear and tear since then, and—well, it ain't much good, if you see what I mean." "I see," I said ruefully as I glanced through the long list of spare parts. ho you think it wouldn't be worth the expense of doing up?" "Well, it'd cost you a fiver at least. That s just to make it go, y' understand. 'Course if you want to make a smart job makin' of it, it'll corst you nearer fifteen pounds." "But I could buy a modern, secondhand 'bus for that amount," I said despondently. "Seems to me I've wasted the money I gave for it." Baggs looked at me shrewdly. "No, I wouldn't say that, sir. Now perhaps ! if you left it with us we could dispose of it. How'd you like to exchange it for that Tjus over there?" He jerked his towards a smart 1930 sports I model. "But. pood heavens, man!" I exclaimed. "That machine is worth all of thirty pounds. "You'd lose heavily on the deal!" "Maybe I would," said Baggs, scratching his head. "But I'm willin' to take the risk. Just say the word and I'll exchange it for this old bone-shaker. You can drive it away now if you want to." Marvelling at Baggs' lack of business acumen, and a + my own good fortune, I acepted the offer, and drove the 'bus home for Evelyn's inspection. Naturally. she was delighted with it, for it was in far better condition than she had expected. These incidents happened a month ago. Since then Evelyn and I spent several week-ends touring the countryside. Mine is a wonderful little "bus, and only the other day I refused an offer of thirty pounds for it. Nevertheless, I was curious to know what Baggs had done with the old crock. So yesterday I asked one of the mechanics what had become of her. "Didn't yen know, sir?" said the lad. 7*Why, that old 'bus was. a -genuine ajitique—the only one of it* make in existence. Mr. Baggs sold it to the South Kensington Museum. Fetched hundred pounds it did, sir!"