“What is Procketts?” demanded Agnes.
“Who is Procketts?” added Ruth.
“A village. Gasoline is sold there,” declared Neale O’Neil, confidently.
“But five miles!” cried Mrs. Heard. “Will you have to walk there and bring back the gasoline yourself? That is too bad!”
Neale smiled more broadly and returned the book to his pocket.
“We’ll run along to Procketts and get our fill of gas. It won’t take long,” he said.
“But, Neale!” Ruth began.
“How can we?” cried Agnes.
“Did you say the tank was empty, young man?” demanded Mrs. Heard.
“Not a drop in it,” agreed the boy, answering the chaperone’s question. “But—you see——” and he bent over and manipulated a small cock, “here’s the emergency tank. That’s always filled, you know; and it will run us to Procketts, all right.”