"That's what he was doing when I saw him first!" cried Harry, with a flash of inspiration. "I thought it was Dick, trying to start his motor—but it was Graves trying to keep us from starting it! But he can't have done very much—I don't believe he had the time. We ought to be able to fix it pretty soon."
"It's two miles to the repair place!" said Jack, blankly.
"Not to this repair shop," said Harry, with a laugh. The need of prompt and efficient action pulled him together. He forgot his wonder at finding Graves, the pain of his ankle, everything but the instant need of being busy. He had to get that cycle going and be off in pursuit; that was all there was to it.
"Give me a steady light," he directed. "I think he's probably disconnected the wires of the magneto—that's what I'd do if I wanted to put a motor out of business in a hurry. And if that's all, there's no great harm done."
"I don't see how you know all that!" wondered Jack. "I can ride one of those things, but the best I can do is mend a puncture, if I should have one."
"Oh, it's easy enough," said Harry, working while he talked. "You see, the motor itself can't be hurt unless you take an axe to it, and break it all up! But to start you've got to have a spark—and you get that from electricity. So there are these little wires that make the connection. He didn't cut them, thank Heaven! He just disconnected them. If he'd cut them I might really have been up a tree because that's the sort of accident you wouldn't provide for in a repair kit."
"It isn't an accident at all," said Jack, literally.
"That's right," said Harry. "That's what I meant, too. Now let's see. I think that's all. Good thing we came up when we did or he'd have cut the tires to ribbons. And there are a lot of things I'd rather do than ride one of these machines on its rims—to say nothing of how long the wheels would last if one tried to go fast at all."
He tried the engine; it answered beautifully.