"Say," he growled at Jimmy, huddled miserably in the seat beside him, "you sure did play a bonehead trick this time. She'll just spoil the fun for all of us."
"Ah, cut it out," retorted Jimmy, wriggling uncomfortably. "She really isn't half bad once you get to know her."
"Neither is poison," snorted Bob, as the car chugged wearily once or twice, then settled down to business. "If we ever get out of this alive, we'll be lucky."
However, maybe it was the sunshine, or maybe it was Joel Banks' conversation that wrought the change in her. Be that as it may, Aunty Bixby unbent surprisingly in the next few minutes. Bob and Jimmy kept an interested eye on the back seat where Joel Banks patiently shouted dry jokes into the old woman's trumpet to the accompaniment of the latter's amused cackle.
"You see!" Jimmy said proudly. "I told you she wasn't half bad if you only got to know her."
And then, just when they were within half a mile of their destination the miserable thing happened. There was a sharp explosion and an ominous whistling of escaping air.
The driver stopped the car, got out and regarded the flat tire with a frown of despair.
"Now what's the matter?" demanded Aunty Bixby, irritably adding, with an air almost of triumph: "I always did say I hated the dratted things."
How the chauffeur managed to get that tire changed the boys never afterward knew. Somehow or other he accomplished it and finally the car reached Doctor Dale's house without any further mishaps.
They found the doctor awaiting them, and in his courteous way he welcomed the guests of the afternoon, welcoming each one in turn and helping the radio boys to see that each one was made as comfortable as possible.