“It was that dog’s fault!” exclaimed Jerry, wrathfully. “I hit that board with a nail in it when I turned out for him. We ought to make the man who owns him pay us for a brand new tire.”
“That’s right,” agreed Ned, while Jerry guided the disabled car beneath a big tree, that they might take advantage of the shade in substituting a new inner tube for the punctured one. The dog, evidently thinking that the lads were stopping to take revenge on him, fled into the house, his tail between his legs.
“Here’s where I watch you fellows work!” exclaimed Bob, with a chuckle.
“All right! What we said goes!” declared Jerry. “Come on, Ned. Get busy.”
The car was soon jacked up, and the shoe taken off by Jerry, while Ned got out a new inner tube and proceeded to partially inflate it ready to slip it in in place of the damaged one.
“Say, this shoe sticks!” said Jerry, who was working hard. “Here, Ned, give me a hand.”
“Can’t for a minute. I’ve got to fill this tube.”
“Aw, say, I’ll help!” exclaimed Bob, who, all the while, in spite of the promise of immunity made to him, had fidgeted while sitting there comfortably while his chums worked. “I can’t be as mean as all that.”
“I thought not,” remarked Jerry, and then, with the help of his fat chum, he soon had the shoe off. The three made short work of changing the tire; and a little later they were on their way once more.
“There’s an eating place!” exclaimed Bob eagerly, as they swung up toward a roadside stand. “We got some dandy sandwiches there once.”