“Here you go, Bob, hand me that monkey wrench.”
“It’s right behind you, Jerry. Say, though, I’ve forgotten whether these side planes, or the rear ones, go on first.”
“The rear ones, of course,” spoke Ned. “We won’t put the side planes on until last, and then they won’t interfere. Look out, don’t step in that pile of bolts. I’ve got ’em arranged in the order I want to use ’em.”
“Oh, I won’t,” and the stout lad changed the planes he had taken up, selecting another set.
“Who’s got the hammer?” demanded Jerry, a little later.
“You had it last,” answered Ned.
“I did not. You sang out for it and I fired it over to you.”
“That’s right. I’d forgotten. I’ve got it. Now, boys, get a move on, and we’ll soon have her in shape.”
It was the third day after the arrival of our heroes and their friends in the small town of Kabspell, Montana, and they were busy assembling their motorship, which had arrived safely a short time before.