“Yes, the trouble is somewhere in the engine, I guess.”
Chub took off his coat and hung it on a fence post.
For a while Dick and Roy looked on, following the others around the car in the glow of the lantern. Then Dick asked permission to get in and sit down and he and Roy sank onto the cushions of the rear seats and stretched their tired legs luxuriously. The minutes came and went. They listened drowsily to the talk of Chub and the owner of the machine, to the clink of tools, the turning of the crank. The full moon worked itself out of a cloud bank and cast a faint radiance over the scene. A breeze came rustling across a corn-field, and Roy reached down sleepily and pulled a robe over him. By that time Dick was frankly slumbering. A half-hour passed since their arrival. Suddenly, there was a grunt of satisfaction from the automobilist, an amused laugh from Chub and a jarring that awoke the boys in the tonneau. The engine was going.
“I don’t believe I’d ever have found that without you,” the owner was saying gaily as he slam-
