name quaveringly on the dotted line indicated by Carter. He wrote "Jerimiah Dil"
Then suddenly there was a mighty shout in De Lacey Street just in front of the Dillon house. A shrieking and yelling that almost shook the Dillon windows! Pop dropped the pen, leaped up and went to the living-room window. He looked out, amazed. Then, forgetting Carter, he rushed out of the front door as fast as his old legs would carry him.
A wild, gesticulating mob of Pop's neighbors were milling around in the streets. In the middle of this pandemonium loomed Pop's horse car. Pushing his way through the cheering throng, grasping hands thrust out to greet him, taking a congratulatory pounding on his back that almost knocked him over, came the broadly grinning Speedy, afoot. He spotted Pop and increased his speed. He ran full tilt up to the old man and threw his arms around him.
"We found it, Pop. We made the trip and saved your franchise! We fooled Carter and everything's great!" roared Speedy.
Pop was puzzled.
"I don't know what you mean or why this Donnybrook Fair is going on," said Pop. "But I've good news for you too. I'm selling the franchise for $5,000. What do you think of that? I guess there's brains in the old—"
Speedy turned pale. He grabbed Pop by the shoulders.
"You didn't!" he cried. "Pop, you didn't sign anything, did you?"
