Hardly had he spoken the last word when the engine gave a loud groan that sounded almost human, and quit working.
“There, that’s what you get for shouting before you’re out of the woods!” said Bumpus, in sheer disgust.
Giraffe looked blank.
“Say, do you really believe motors can understand the English language?” he demanded of the fat scout. “This one has been brought up on either German or French, and how would it know I was boasting? Anyway next time I say a thing like that you’ll see me knocking on wood right away.”
Thad was already out and had the hood lifted so that he could look the disheartened engine over, and find just what the trouble might be.
“Mebbe it’s that silly old gas tank again?” suggested Bumpus.
Allan made a hurried examination.
“Nothing wrong here,” he announced; “no drip, and plenty of stuff inside. Looks as if the engine could only stand just so much, and then had a fainting fit. And no matter where we bring up in the end, mark my words, fellows, we’ve got to work our passage.”
“Find out what bust, Thad?” asked Giraffe, as he jumped from the car.
“I don’t seem to get it yet, and as there’s no telling what may come along the road while we’re loafing here, suppose we all get busy and push the car to one side, where it isn’t apt to block the passage.”