"So far—so good!" exclaimed Dick. "Now, after we have that defective brake looked to, I guess we can get under way again."
"There's a garage about a mile further along," said Mr. Kennedy, who had supplied the horses. "I guess they can fix you up."
"I'll try for it," said Dick. Then he paid the men who had helped him, not forgetting the bridge tender who had gotten the boat for them, without which Dick and his chums would have had wet feet.
"Where are you bound for?" asked a man in the crowd. He seemed to be a stranger, since none of the others talked to him. He addressed Dick.
"Oh, we're just on a tour," replied our hero, with a sharp glance at the chap.
"Looks as though you could go all the way to 'Frisco in that car," the man went on, as he stepped to the door and peered into the interior of the Last Word.
"We could—if we wanted to," said Dick, coolly. "Please don't touch anything," he added sharply, as he saw the man fingering various levers and switches.
"Huh! I didn't mean anything," was the surly response.
"Perhaps not, but you don't know when you might do some damage," went on Dick, "and the car's been through enough for one day. Come along, boys," he added to his chums. "We'll get a move on."
With thanks to those who had helped them out of their predicament, the boys drove off toward the garage where Dick intended to have the broken brake repaired.