The scientific pioneer

By Nelson S. Bond
Horse-Sense Hank could answer all the problems of science. He could even apply logic to love. But turnips...!
One thing about that heap of mine, it always picks the loneliest places to roll over and play doggo. It started spluttering about the time the road changed from concrete to macadam, and when the macadam trickled into a thin silver of bumpy dirt it wheezed, snorted, and gave up the ghost.
I said, Damn! and a few things more expressive. I got out and struggled with the hood and looked at the innards and admired their incomprehensible compactness. I jiggled a few wires here and there and nothing happened. Then I looked for telephone wires. There were none. But I discovered that I wasn't alone. There was a man leaning on the worm fence across the road, watching me with drawling incuriosity.
I said, Hey, you! Is there a telephone anywhere around these parts?
He shifted a billiard ball from his left cheek to his right, squinted, and shook his head.
Nup, he said.
How about a garage? I asked. How far is it to the nearest garage?
He bobbed his head northward. Two mile. Mebbe two'n a half, he said.
Thanks, I told him, for the poisonous information.
I locked the car and started in the direction he had pointed out. I had taken a dozen steps when he halted me.
Swim good? he asked.