" "Use His Restorer and Be Likewise." Another was:
"Bennington's Restorer Really Restores."
"Have you lost something?" asked Mollie, bringing the car to a stop. He
looked up quickly, and smiled, but the smile only seemed to make his
face harder, instead of softening it.
"Yes, ladies," he said with a smirk and bow, taking off his broad
brimmed hat, and running his fingers through his hair, making it fluff
out more than ever, "I have lost a bolt out of part of my wagon, and I'm
afraid to go on lest I break down. It dropped somewhere in the dust, but
I can't find it."
"I have a supply of spare bolts in my tool box," spoke Mollie, "I'll
give you one, and that will save you looking any more."
"Thank you, lady. It will be just what I want." From the tool box on the
run board he soon selected a bolt that fitted his wagon.
"And now let me repay your kindness," he said. "I am, as you see, a
traveling peddler of hair tonic. May I present you with a bottle?" and
he offered Mollie one.
"No, thank you," and she laughed merrily. "It is something that I never
use."
"You all have fine hair," returned the peddler; "but at that it would be
all the better for Bennington's Restorer--I am Bennington--I make it
myself," and he bowed. "Won't you take it. I can guarantee it harmless."
"No, thank you just the same," repeated Mollie. "And you are entirely
welcome to the bolt.
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