Toby ignored the warning. He stopped in front of the elderly man, gently placing the folded cash into the stranger's trembling, grease-stained hands.
"He needs help," Toby said softly, turning to the old driver with a reassuring smile. "This should get you home."
The old man looked at the crumpled bills, his eyes wide with stunned gratitude: "Thank you, son..."
Croft stepped right between them, glaring down at Toby with cold, predatory eyes.
"You're paying for his diagnostic fee out of your check," Croft snapped.
"I know," Toby replied without a hint of regret.
"And you're fired," Croft snarled, pointing toward the exit. "Pack your tools and get the hell off my property."