“I’ll get even with you for this,” mumbled Gurney through his swollen lips, as he climbed painfully into the machine.
“I suppose you’ll try to,” answered Phil, “but that isn’t worrying me.”
With an imprecation flung back over his shoulder, Gurney started off. Phil watched him until the car was out of sight and then turned to Dick and the girl. The latter was profuse in her thanks. They learned that she lived only a little ways up the road in the direction opposite to that in which Gurney had gone. They felt safe therefore, in leaving her, and having said goodbye they climbed again into their machine and mounted into the upper air.
“You certainly trimmed him good and proper,” remarked Dick.
“He had it coming to him,” replied Phil. “It was a sin and a shame though,” he added with a grin, “to spoil such a gorgeous suit of clothes. Did you see how he was dressed? Solomon in all his glory hadn’t anything on him.”
“That was a nifty car too,” said Dick. “What’s made him blossom out so suddenly? A little while ago he was looking seedy. Now he seems to have slathers of money. Where does he get it?”
“Search me,” Phil answered carelessly.
CHAPTER VII
Crooked Work
“There!” exclaimed Phil, two days later straightening up, and wiping his hands on a piece of cotton waste. “If that engine doesn’t tick like a Swiss watch now, it won’t be our fault. It ought to make the run to Texas without a miss.”
“I’ve got a hunch it will,” said Dick, confidently. “Let’s see if we’ve done everything now,” and he proceeded to count off the operations on his fingers. “Scraped carbon out of cylinders; took up on main bearings and big end bearings, overhauled oil pump and strainer, cleaned spark plugs and timer points, put in new piston rings. Whew! Sounds like a lot when you say it slow, doesn’t it?”