ttle pessimistical for you."

"Oh, no, Bart; it's optimistical. I'm confident that the sharks and
sharpers will fail and the honest concerns will endure and prosper. The
automobile has come to stay. There is no question about that. The
majority of the present-day buyers are going to be defrauded, and many
of them will become disgusted. In purchasing a machine I've not relied
on my own judgment, but I've sought the advice of friends who were
competent to advise. I hope and I believe that I've got my money's
worth. Here we are, and there are the gentlemen of the red bubble
talking with some of the fellows."

The machine stood on the driveway in front of the house, with the
chauffeur still in his seat. Two of the four men had stepped out of the
car and were talking with Buck Badger, Ephraim Gallup, and Barney
Mulloy. Mrs. Merriwell was with a group of her friends on the veranda.

Badger waved his hand as Frank and Bart turned in at the wide gate.

"Here are some gents what are looking for you, Merry," called the
Kansan.

Frank clattered up and drew rein, but Bart's horse was frightened and
shied at the machine. Hodge gave the little mare a touch of the spur and
reined her toward the automobile. After a time he succeeded in bringing
her close to it and guiding her round it, although she snorted and
fretted and betrayed great alarm and excitement.

"You countrymen will have to kill off a few of your skittish horses,"
observed a stout, sandy-mustached man, one of the two who had left the
car. "If you don't, they're liable to kill you."

"I don't think there's any great danger of that as long as a man knows
how to handle them properly," said Frank, as he patted the neck of his
own horse. "Dick was afraid of automobiles, but I've succeeded in
eliminating that fear, and you can see how he behaves now."

"You never can be sure what a horse will do," returned the stout man.
"There never was one yet that had an ounce of brains. They're all
fools."

"Do you think so?" smiled Merriwell. "Of course you have a right to your
opinion, but I don't believe many people will agree with you. I've seen
horses which were more intelligent than many men."

"Bah! bah!" retorted the stranger. "They can't reason. They can't think.
All they know is enough to eat and work. The best horse in the country
is none too good to pull a plow."

A queer twinkle flashed in Frank's eyes.

"Perhaps I can convince you of your mistake, sir," he said.