Bert drew a long breath.
“No,” he said, and there was a world of sympathy and understanding in his tone, “I don’t.”
[CHAPTER XVI]
Desperate Chances
Bert’s stay at the pleasant seaside hotel was limited to a few hours only, but he gained incalculable refreshment from the short rest. It was with regret that he could not spend more time there that he took leave of the proprietor, and repaired to the motorcycle store where he had left the “Blue Streak” to have some very necessary work done on it. The engine had not been overhauled since starting from New York, and the cylinders were badly incrusted with carbon. He had left directions for this to be scraped out, and when he reached the shop expected to find his machine waiting for him in first-class condition. What was his chagrin therefore, when, on entering the place, the first thing he saw was the “Blue Streak” in a dismantled condition, parts of it strewn all over the floor.
He hunted up the proprietor, and indignantly asked him why the machine was not ready according to promise.
“I’m very sorry,” the man told him, “but as one of the mechanics was scraping the front cylinder it dropped on the floor, and when he picked it up he found it was split. So we can’t do anything with the machine until we get a new cylinder.”
“But haven’t you got a machine in the place you could take a cylinder from, and put it on my machine?” asked Bert. “I can’t afford to be held up here for a day while you send away for a new part.”