JERRY TAKES A RIDE
Fortune favored the Benton and Morris Transportation Company for
several days and the company’s coffers took on an appearance of
prosperity. The Providence _News_ published a half-column story on
Tuesday about the enterprise, a story which, evidently built on the
article in the Audelsville paper, took frightful liberties with the
truth. According to the _News_ Tom and Willard had not only assembled
the car but had actually turned out or cast most of the parts! The
_News_ even declared that the engine was built on a new and startling
principle and promised to revolutionize the future construction of
gas engines! Tom was a veritable wizard of mechanics and Willard an
electrician of remarkable genius. To the boys themselves the article
sounded absurdly silly and it made them rather ashamed, but it was
interesting reading and it wasn’t long before they discovered that it
was helping their business. Travelers from Providence wanted above all
else to see and ride in the famous automobile, and if the appearance
of the car struck them as being somewhat peculiar and old-fashioned
they only nodded and looked wise. However, Providence didn’t supply
enough travelers to Audelsville to overtax The Ark, and a dozen patrons
a day was considered good business. And so things stood when, on
Saturday, their first stroke of ill-luck befell them.
Thus far The Ark had given practically no trouble. Sooty spark plugs
had on one occasion somewhat interfered with the car’s performance,
but that was a matter of small moment and easily remedied. On Saturday
morning, however, when Tom ran The Ark out into Cross Street and
started toward the hotel to look for passengers for the 9:01, it didn’t
take him long to discover that the automobile was suffering from a new
and, to Tom, alarming malady. From under the floor, as it seemed, came
a most fearsome thumping, as though the car’s vitals had all broken
loose and were having a battle royal. Tom stopped in consternation, got
out, and peered under the car. Then he walked around it and finally
lifted the hood and viewed the engine anxiously and sternly. But
everything looked perfectly normal, and presently he took his seat
again and started on. But as soon as he put the load on the engine
the thumping began again. It was so loud that he wouldn’t think of
taking the car onto Main Street. But just what to do he didn’t know.
He stopped again under the green shade of a horse-chestnut tree and
frowned. It was getting toward nine o’clock and soon it would be too
late to meet the first train. In despair he got out again and went over
the engine. It was getting plenty of oil, the wiring seemed all right
and the cylinders appeared to be working nicely. Whatever the trouble
might be, it was plainly back of the fly-wheel, and that meant――well,
almost anything! Tom wished Willard were there to share the worry, but
Willard had something to do at home for his mother, and Tom had agreed
to pick him up on the way from the hotel to the station. Realizing,
however, that two heads might be better than one, Tom turned the car
around and headed back along the street in search of his partner. Jerry
Lippit, curled up in a hammock in his side yard, heard the approach of
The Ark a block away and, although the book he was reading was terribly
fascinating, simply had to investigate. So when Tom came abreast of
the Lippits’ house Jerry was awaiting him on the curb. Tom was glad of
an excuse to stop that horrible thumping if only for a minute, and so
slowed up.
“’S matter?” asked Jerry eagerly.
“I don’t know. I wish I did. Something’s busted, I guess. She started
to act that way when I took her out of the garage.”
“Maybe she didn’t want to get up so early,” suggested Jerry. “Maybe
she’s still asleep and snoring. What you going to do?”
“I don’t know,” answered Tom disconsolately. “She seems to run all
right, but I’d hate to take her through town making such a racket. I
guess I’ll have to get Jimmy Brennan to look her over. I’m going over
to Will’s now.”
“Would it make it any worse if I went along?” asked Jerry eagerly.
Tom shook his head. “I don’t suppose so. Get in. Gee, there it goes
again!”
“Sounds as if she was falling to pieces, don’t it?” asked Jerry
cheerfully. “Didn’t leave a screw-driver or a wrench or anything like
that inside her, did you?”
“Don’t be a chump,” growled Tom as he steered into Lincoln Street. At
the Morris’, Grace, Willard’s sister, came out to the gate and informed
them that Willard was at his father’s shop on the next street. So,
after Grace had been acquainted with the catastrophe and had properly
sympathized, The Ark thumped her way around to Logan Street. By
that time Jerry was talking baseball, but found a very uninterested
audience in Tom. High school was to play a team from the cotton mill
that afternoon, and Jerry, who had succeeded to the position of second
baseman in the absence of Jordan, was full of what they were going to
do to their opponents.
“Billy’s going to pitch and it will be a dandy game. Are you coming
out?”
Tom shook his head.
“Better. Why don’t you? You can’t run the car, can you? You and Will
come and see the game. It’s a fine chance, Tom.”
“Maybe we will, if the car isn’t fixed; and I don’t suppose it will
be,” answered Tom discouragedly as he drew up in front of the cabinet
shop and honked the horn. Willard came out and was told of the
trouble, Tom running the car back and forward to prove that he was not
exaggerating.
“There’s just one thing to do,” said Willard decisively. “And that’s to
get hold of Jimmy. Come on in and telephone to him.”
So Tom followed Willard to the shop, leaving Jerry in the car, and got
Jimmy Brennan on the telephone. After reciting the symptoms Tom asked
Jimmy what he thought the trouble was.
“Might be your gears,” was the reply. “Might be most anything. You can
search me. But I tell you what I’ll do, Tom. You put the car in your
stable and I’ll drop around as soon as I’ve had dinner and see what
I can do. I don’t have to work this afternoon and so maybe I can get
it fixed up for you. I wanted to see the ball game, but I guess that
won’t matter. I’ll be around about half-past one.”
“That’s mighty decent of you, Jimmy,” replied Tom gratefully. “You
don’t think I’d better try to run the car this morning, do you?”
“I wouldn’t. Better wait till we see what’s wrong with it.”
“All right. I’ll take it right back. I’m sorry about the ball game,
though.”
“Oh, that’s all right. It don’t matter. A fellow I know at the mill is
going to pitch and I thought I’d like to see it. Well, so long. See you
later.”
Tom hung up the receiver and he and Willard returned to the sidewalk.
Tom was so busy bewailing the misfortune――for Saturday was the one day
in the week when The Ark was sure to do a good business――that it was
not until they were almost at the curbing that either discovered that
the automobile was not there!
“What――――” began Tom.
“Where――――” exclaimed Willard.
But their unfinished questions were soon answered. From down near
Main Street came a thump, thump, thumping that told the story. Moving
steadily and slowly along was The Ark. In the front seat Jerry Lippit
was to be seen moving this way and that, and occasionally looking back
along the street. Catching sight of Tom and Willard in the distance,
he waved a hand. Tom broke into a series of remarks far from flattering
to Jerry, but Willard saved his breath for running.
“He’ll smash into something sure as shooting!” exclaimed Tom as he
caught up with Willard. “Why, he never ran a car in his life! I――I’ll
lick him good and hard when I catch him, the silly chump!”
At that moment The Ark reached Main Street and bumped across it,
avoiding a dray by the merest good fortune, and continuing on its way
toward The Hill. The pursuers gave sighs of relief when they saw that
the car had escaped the dangers of Main Street. Luckily, The Ark was
running on first speed and the boys were running on high! And half way
through the next block they got within hailing distance.
“Jerry! Stop this minute!” shouted Willard.
Jerry turned in his seat for a brief look behind and shouted something
that neither of the others could hear, but the car kept on going.
“I’ll kick you around the block when I get you!” bawled Tom. “You stop
that car this instant, you――you――――”
But Willard had managed a final sprint and had now reached the
running-board, and The Ark stopped her thumping and drew up at the side
of the street. Tom, filled with rage, made a leap at Jerry, but one
glance at that youth’s face was sufficient. Jerry was as white as a
sheet, although he was trying now very hard to smile.
“You silly chump!” growled Tom.
“I’m awfully sorry, fellows, honest!” said Jerry. “I didn’t mean to
start it. I――I just pulled something and――and it started.”
“Suppose you did!” said Tom angrily, pushing the luckless Jerry out of
the seat. “Why didn’t you stop it?”
“I couldn’t! I didn’t know how! I――I tried to, Tom!”
“It’s a wonder you didn’t smash into something on Main Street,” said
Willard severely.
“I thought I was going to. There was a dray coming along and I tooted
the horn as hard as I knew how, but the man kept right on and the car
missed the end of it by about a foot. Say, maybe I wasn’t scared!”
“I hope you were!” growled Tom. “Next time maybe you’ll let things
alone. You can jolly well foot it home now.”
“I don’t mind walking back,” responded Jerry, who was now out on the
sidewalk, “but I wish you wouldn’t be mad with me. I didn’t mean to
start it, Tom, honest I didn’t!”
“Well, you did it, anyway. If you’d struck that dray you’d have
smashed this car into kindling wood.”
“Well, I’d have smashed myself, too, wouldn’t I?” demanded Jerry, a
trifle resentfully. “That ought to prove that I wasn’t doing it on
purpose!”
“All right, Jerry,” said Willard soothingly. “You didn’t mean to do it,
but don’t monkey with the buzz-saw again. Next time you might not be so
lucky. Let him come in, Tom. There’s no harm done.”
“Well,” said Tom none too graciously, “he can come back with us. But
he’s got to understand that he’s not to try any fool tricks like that
again.”
“I won’t,” sighed Jerry. “I was scared blue. But――but, say, don’t you
think I steered it pretty well?”