With only five hundred dollars to go on, Harry and Nelly, of course, had to look about for more capital; and that was why they chose me to go in with them.  I didn’t have any capital except a rich father, but I suppose they thought that was the same thing.  People are so apt to—­though I never found it the same thing at all.  Then, too, Nelly and I were bosom friends, and they naturally wanted to give me the first chance.  Their original plan had been to have the bubble held in four equal shares, taking in Morty Truslow as the fourth.  I think there was a little scheme in that, too, for Morty and I hadn’t spoken for three months, and it was all off between us.  There was a time when I thought there was only one thing in the world, and that was Morty Truslow—­but that was over for good, with nothing left of it but a great big ache.  I can never be grateful enough to Mrs. Gettridge for putting me on to it, for, however much a girl cares for a man, her pride won’t let her—­and she was Josie’s aunt, you know, and if anybody was on the inside track, she was—­and I cut him dead and sent back his letters unopened, though he wrote and wrote—­and it was awfully hard, you know, because I just had to grit my teeth together to keep from loving him to death.  Nelly said I was just too proud and silly for anything, and pa looked as depressed as though there was another slump in Preferred Steel, and mama said he was such a catch that the first designing girl would snap him up, and Harry said you wouldn’t know Morty now, he was so changed and different.

So that was how it was when Nelly and Harry started the Great Bubble Syndicate and wanted to take Morty and me into it as quarter share-holders each.  But I wouldn’t have joined in a heavenly chariot on those terms, and so we talked and talked till finally Morty was eliminated and we settled on a two-third and one-third basis.  The next point was to choose the car, for it had to be a cheap car and we wanted to get the very best for our money.  Harry said the Model E Fearless runabout at seven hundred and fifty was the bulliest little car on the market; and that the Fearless agent was so good and kind and looked so much like Henry Ward Beecher that you felt uplifted just to be with him; and that you knew instinctively that his car was sure to be the best car.

A picture of the Fearless settled the matter, for it was a real little beauty—­long in the chassis and very low, with wood artillery wheels and guards and lamps thrown in for nothing.  Harry said it had more power than it knew what to do with and was a bird on the hills, and that he had a friend who had a friend who owned one and swore by it.  Afterward we met him and towed him nine miles, and what swearing he did was all the other way; however, I mustn’t get ahead of the story, or anticipate, as they say in novels.

Getting two hundred and fifty dollars from pa was the next step, and of all my automobiling experiences it was certainly the worst.  He couldn’t see it at all, though I caught him after dinner and sat on the arm of his chair and rubbed my cheek against his like the sunny-haired daughter on the stage.