From a little utility case, which was tucked away under the seat of the motor, Patty drew out a good-sized package of sweet chocolate. “I always carry chocolate with me,” she said, “because it tastes so good when it’s dusty.”
“When the chocolate’s dusty?”
“No, of course not; when the road’s dusty, and your throat’s dusty,—chocolate’s awful good then.”
As she talked, Patty had torn off the outer wrapper, and showed the chocolate neatly wrapped in tinfoil. She took this off carefully, and, tossing the chocolate aside, folded the tinfoil into a long strip, while Philip gazed at her with dawning admiration in his eyes.
“There’s your lead,” she said, simply, as she handed him the strip.
“Patty, you’re a genius!” he exclaimed; “a perfect genius! How did you ever think of that?”
“Will it do?”
“Do? Of course it will do! It’s just the very thing. I’ll wrap it around that separated battery strap, and we’ll be off in two minutes!”
In really less than two minutes, Van Reypen had wound the strip of tinfoil in its place, had jumped into the car beside Patty, who was already in, and they were flying along at top speed.
“How did you think of it?” he asked again, as they skimmed along. “It was terribly clever of you!”