“Does all that go?” he demanded.
“Sure,” chorused Ned and Jerry.
“And about me not having to help sweat putting on a tire?”
“That’s right,” Jerry assured him. Bob came slowly back.
“All the same,” he spoke as he climbed into the tonneau, “it was no fun cranking a car with the switch off.”
“We agree with you,” said Jerry, winking at Ned with the eye concealed from his offended chum. “But it wasn’t intentional,” he added, soothingly, as he went to the crank. “Go ahead, Bob, you can steer if you want to.”
“I don’t know as I want to. If we get a puncture you might blame it on me.”
“All right, then I’ll take the wheel,” went on Jerry, as the motor throbbed and hummed when he had turned the crank, for the car, though a good one, was not a self-starter.
“But everything else goes,” proceeded Bob, as the machine glided smoothly down the road. “And we stop at the first place where we can get sandwiches and ginger ale. I’m hungry.”
“You always——” began Ned, but Jerry stopped him with a nudge in the ribs.