Getting on to good roads he speeded his machine up as fast as it would go, which was not overly rapid, and was soon riding through the streets of the historic city.
He kept his eyes open, and presently saw an automobile shop. The man was just closing up.
“Wait a minute!” called Ned. “Hold on! I want to get something!”
“You’ll have to be quick,” said the man.
Ned lost no time in telling what he desired.
“Here’s what you want,” said the dealer. “We got some new ones in to-day.”
“Thanks,” said Ned fervently, as he paid for the articles. He stowed the precious parts safely away in his pockets. Then he began to think of supper. It was nearly ten o’clock, but he found a small restaurant open, and made a hasty meal. Then, lighting his own acetylene gas lamp, which he had brought along in place of the oil affair Mr. Wakefield carried, the boy prepared for his homeward trip.
This was a very different thing from riding along in the afternoon and early evening. If he was in doubt of a road he could find plenty of persons to ask. But after dark every one seemed to go to bed, as he noticed when he passed from the immediate Boston suburbs into the country. Several times Ned had to get off his machine and, with his lamp for a torch, hunt around for a sign post to tell him which road to take.
Once he came to where three roads divided. He could find no friendly pointing finger to tell him which one to take, and there was not a house in sight. The last residence he had passed was half a mile back. He did not relish going on the wrong highway until he met some one to set him right, nor did he want to retrace his journey.
“If only some one would come along now,” he murmured.