GIVING HIM A LIFT
Dick Hamilton bent over the disabled steering gear of the car that was
slewed across the roadway. As he did so he gave a start that was noticed
by Paul, who was directly back of him.
"What is it?" asked his chum.
"Nothing--er that is--I should say it _was_ a smash!" finished the young
millionaire in louder tones, speaking to the lame man. "It looks as if
something hit it."
"Something did hit it," went on the other autoist, limping up. "I ran
over a piece of iron lying in the road. My wheel kicked it up, and the
first thing I knew one end had hit the steering knuckle.
"It cracked as though I had struck it with the hammer, and I found
myself shooting across the road. I brought up standing, with both brakes
set, and I jumped out in such a hurry that I gave my ankle a twist. It
hurts like the mischief, too! I was trying to see if I could patch up
the steering gear in any way, when you came along. I didn't want to
block up the highway any longer than I had to. But if you'll give me a
hand I think we can push the car out of the way."
With the boys and the lame man pushing at the disabled auto it was soon
rolled to one side, allowing a free passage, which a few minutes later
was taken advantage of by several cars. The occupants looked curiously
at the broken machine, but, seeing that the unfortunate autoist had
assistance, they did not stop.
"Well, that's done!" exclaimed Dick, as he and the others rested from
their labors. "Can we do anything else for you, Mr.--er--?" and he
paused suggestively.
"Brockhurst is my name," said the man, quickly. "Samuel Brockhurst. I'm
from Buffalo, and I was out on a little run when this accident happened.
It comes just at a wrong time, too. I had an appointment with a man in
Hazelton," naming a town about twenty-five miles away, "and now I can't
keep it in time, I'm afraid. I can't get back to the city in time to
catch a train, and there's no garage around here where I can hire a car.
I do seem to have the worst luck!
"But there's no use in burdening you with my troubles," he added, with a
frank smile. "I'm very thankful to you for what you've done for me. If
you wouldn't mind stopping at the first garage you come to, and telling
them to send out for this machine, I'll be obliged to you."
"Of course we will," said Dick, quickly; "but can't we give you a lift
on your way? We're going close to Hazelton, and if it will be any
accommodation to you we can just as well make that town."
"Oh, no, I wouldn't think of troubling you. I've delayed you enough at
it is. I might go on to the garage with you, if you don't mind, and then
I could tell the man just what the trouble is. He might even have a car
I can hire, though, as I remember it, the nearest garage is a small,
one-horse sort of a place. Still, they can mend the steering knuckle I
should think."
"Come on then," urged Dick. "We'll take you as far as there, and if you
can't hire a car you're welcome to ride to Hazelton with us."
"Oh, Mr.----"
"Hamilton--Dick Hamilton," supplied our hero.
"I couldn't think of it, Mr. Hamilton. I wouldn't put you to that
trouble for the world."
"It's no trouble," Dick assured him. "I believe in being helpful
whenever I can. I might be in the same boat myself some day."
"It doesn't look as though your car would ever break down," said the
lame man. "It certainly is a beauty. What make is that?"
"It was built to order," said Dick, "and I got it in a deal when the
owner couldn't take it. It just suits me."
"I should think it would suit anyone. It's a peach! Are you going far?"
"To San Francisco!"
"You don't tell me! That _is_ a tour, all right. My car looks small
alongside yours, though my machine is considered a pretty good one."
It was a good one, Dick and his chums could see, and the small break
could easily be repaired. After making sure that the disabled car was
well out of the way of traffic, and leaving a written notice on it to
show to whom it belonged, Dick, his chums, and Mr. Brockhurst entered
the _Last Word_, with the first named at the wheel, and once more they
were under way.
Mr. Brockhurst proved an agreeable companion. He had traveled much, and
could talk well of the places he had visited, telling a number of funny
stories that kept the cadets laughing.
On reaching the garage the man in charge, promised to send out and get
the car.
"But as for renting you one, I can't do it," he said to Mr. Brockhurst.
"There isn't a one in the place, except Colonel Carter's, and he'd have
my head off if I loaned that, though he only drives it about once a
week."
"I wonder if I couldn't see him and make some deal with him?" asked the
lame man. "It's important that I get to Hazelton this morning."
"Say!" interrupted Dick. "What's the use of going to all that bother.
I'll be glad to run you down. It's only ten miles out of our way, and we
are ahead of our schedule. Anyhow, a day or so doesn't matter to us.
Come on, Mr. Brockhurst."
"Oh, I don't want to put you out----"
"It will be a pleasure to have you," said Dick, and he meant it. His
chums, too, were glad of the man's company.
"And I'll show you how the electric stove works," went on Dick, for the
lame man had been much interested in the fittings of the big car.
"All right--if you insist!" and he laughed in an engaging manner. He
left orders about his car, and was soon in the big machine with Dick and
his chums, who resumed their journey.
They had purchased some supplies in the village where the garage was
situated, and, reaching a secluded place on the road, they began the
preparation of a meal on the electric stove.
"Now I insist on you letting me help," said Mr. Brockhurst. "I'm a sort
of old bachelor myself, and used to cooking. Shall I bring up a scuttle
of coal, or a pail of water?"
"We don't need coal," said Dick, "though we might have some water. That
looks like a spring over there."
"I'm the water-boy!" cried the lame man, as, with all the exuberance of
youth, he limped off with a collapsible rubber pail toward the spring.