"Hold on!" exclaimed Mr. Sharp. "Is your mule good and strong, Eradicate?"
"Strong? Why dish yeah mule could pull a house ober—dat is when he's got a mind to. an' he'd do most anyt'ing now, 'ca'se he's anxious t' git home t' his dinnah; ain't yo' all, Boomerang?"
Once more the mule waved his ears, like signal flags.
"Then I have a proposition to make," went on the balloonist. "Unhitch the mule from the load of wood, and hitch him to the auto. We've got some rope along, I noticed. Then the mule can pull us and the runabout home."
"Good idea!" cried Mr. Damon.
"Dat's de racket!" ejaculated Eradicate. "I'll jest sequesterate dish year load ob wood side ob de road, an' hitch Boomerang to de auto."
Tom said nothing for a few seconds. He gazed sadly at his auto, which he hoped would win the touring club's prize. It was a bitter pill for him to swallow.
"Towed by a mule!" he exclaimed, shaking his head, and smiling ruefully. "The fastest car in this country towed by a mule! It's tough luck!"
"'Tain't half so bad as goin' widout yo' dinnah, Mistah Swift!" remarked Eradicate, as
