“Two punctures!” Ethel flung out. “Both back tires flat!”
“But how—?” insisted Alice, still more incredulously.
“I’ve found one cause!” announced Marjorie. She held up a large tack, which she had just extracted from the left tire.
“Then there must be one in the right, also,” commented Ethel. “Well, girls, let’s don’t lose any time, for the tires may be stiff—the car’s new, you know—and they’ve never been changed. We’ll need every single person to help!”
“If we only had a couple of the boys!” sighed Alice.
“And forfeit our trip, and the cars we are to win?” demanded Marjorie. “Come, cheer up, Alice. It’s not such a bad job; you only think so because you have never done it. I’m going to show you how.”
But as Ethel had intimated, the task was more difficult than they had anticipated, and nearly an hour went by before it was completed. In that time a good many machines passed them, and a number stopped to offer assistance. But the girls resolutely refused them all.
It was only after the tools were all put away, and the party ready to set off again that Marjorie suddenly realized that the Rolls-Royce, which had continued to travel behind them, had not passed them during the preceding hour.
“What do you suppose could have happened?” she asked.
“Probably, punctures, like us,” surmised Ethel “Tacks, you know.”