An investigation revealed the fact that there was hardly a drop in the tank.
“Here’s the reason,” said Thad, pointing with his finger to where plain signs of a leak could be seen; “the reservoir has gone back on us. It must have sprung that leak in the last mile or two, and drained the tank.”
“Oh! what tough luck!” exclaimed Bumpus, and then settled back in his seat in the consciousness that these comrades, so fertile in resources, would speedily find some solution for the problem.
Thad glanced at Allan, shook his head, and smiled dismally.
“Looks as if we’re bound to run the whole gamut of car troubles before we’re done with this machine, doesn’t it?” he observed. “Of course there are several things we might do. One is to pull the car aside so as not to block the road, and then strike on in hopes of finding a village, where we can either put up for the night or else get some gas, enough to bring us on.”
“Failing that,” said Giraffe, “what’s to hinder hiring a farmer and his horse to pull the machine along to town? It’s a common occurrence over in our country, and these Belgians are ready to do anything like that to earn a dollar or two. And if you say the word, Thad, I’ll be glad to strike off right now to either get the juice or hire a horse to tow us out of this.”
That was always the way with Giraffe, for there never breathed a more willing comrade than the tall scout.
“It’s nice of you to make that offer, Giraffe,” the patrol leader told him, “and I guess we’ll have to take you up on it, since there seems to be no other way.”
“We’d find it pretty tough to try and push the car a long ways,” ventured Bumpus, always remembering the effort it took to surmount the low hills they had struck; “and as to camping out here without a bite of supper, I’d rather be excused from trying it, even if I had to go for help myself.”
Of course no one would dream of allowing such a thing as this last hint covered; and doubtless Bumpus knew that he was perfectly safe in making it.