“Oh, I thought I’d let you sleep. I didn’t feel a bit like turning in, and I didn’t need you.”
“Yes, but the accident. What is it?”
“A valve spring has broken. We can’t very well go on without one, and I can’t seem to find an extra part. I thought we had some, but I haven’t come across them.” He was rummaging in a tool box. Meanwhile the Scud was drifting under the influence of a little wind and a slight current in the lake.
“What are we going to do?” asked Bob, helplessly.
“I’m trying to fix it,” said Jerry, “but I haven’t had much success. I can’t make this makeshift spring stay in place. It needs someone to hold it.”
“Would the motor work if that spring was held tight—I mean that one you’ve put in?” asked Bob.
“Yes. She’d go all right then. I’ve tried to rig up some way to tie the spring with a cord, and fasten it to some part of the engine, but that makes it too stiff. It needs a hand to hold it—someone who could ease down just at the right time.”
“I’ll do it,” said Bob quickly, as he saw where Jerry had used part of a spring from another spare part of the motor, and a cord to give the necessary tension. But, as the tall lad had said, it needed a human hand to hold it, to make just the right pull, to provide for the automatic opening and closing of the valve.
“You can’t hold it,” objected Jerry. “It will mean hours of remaining in one position, and your hand’ll ache like the mischief.”
“I’ll do it,” responded Bob quietly. “We’ve got to make this trip as fast as we can, and we haven’t any time to lay up for repairs. I’ll hold the broken spring.”