Chet was getting from under the wheel, and grunted. But Laura hopped out before him, came to Hester’s side of the car, and asked:
“Did it stop of itself?”
“No. It wasn’t firing regularly. I looked at the carburetor to see if it was all right. Then I tried to start her and couldn’t,” said Hester, ungraciously.
Laura was going over the wiring to see if there were no loose contacts before Chet came to them. She turned the fly wheel far enough to get the buzz of the spark coils.
“Go ahead, Sis!” chuckled Chet. “You know so much you’ll be taking our old mill to pieces pretty soon, I reckon.”
Hester stood by and bit her lip with vexation. She was almost on the point of driving Laura away from the car, rather than have her enemy—for so she considered Mother Wit—help her out of her trouble. But night was coming on and she did not want to stand there much longer, if the car could be started.
Laura removed a plug, grounded it on a cylinder and turned the wheel to a sparking point to note the quality of the spark and the strength of the battery. Then she ticked the carburetor and opened the small cock at the bottom.
“You’re getting your gloves all messy, Laura!” called Jess from the other car.
“Hush!” commanded Chet, grinning, and holding up his hand. “Do not disturb the priestess of automobiling at her devotions. There will be something ‘didding’ in a minute—now watch.”
But Laura was serious—and interested. She closed the cock and felt along the gasoline pipe to the valve rod. This seemed to interest her particularly. In a moment she straightened up and stood back, saying to Hester: