"Yes."
Zee stepped on it.
This produced a low aimless whirr, quite powerless.
"Pull up that little flooder thing," said Treasure. "Father always does that."
Zee pulled it to the tiptop, and banged her heel on the starter again. This time the enticing tug told her the engine had caught, and was ready for action.
"Push with the left foot and put her in low," said Zee, between her teeth.
She found it took quite a vicious pull on the gears to "put her in low." And the instant it clicked into place, the car shot forward out of the garage with a violent pull that dashed them against the seat and took their breath away. And there was a tearing and crashing of wood—the garage door was none too wide—
"Father's fault," shouted Zee, pulling on the wheel for dear life. "Just splintered a little."
"Slow up," cried Treasure.