"It's possible. Have you tried the little valve forward of the carburetor?"
"Why, no," rejoined Merritt; "but I hardly think—"
"It wouldn't be the first time a carburetor had fouled, particularly after what we went through in that squall," remarked Tubby. "It's worth trying, anyhow."
He bent over the valve he had referred to, which was in the gasoline feed pipe, just forward of the carburetor, and placed there primarily for draining the tank when it was necessary.
"Look here!" he yelled, with a sudden shout of excitement. "No," he cried the next moment, "I don't want to waste it—but when I opened the valve a stream of gasoline came out. There's plenty of it. That stoppage is in the carburetor. Oh, what a bunch of idiots we've been!"
"Better sound the tank," suggested Merritt; "what came out of the valve might just be an accumulation in the pipe."
"Not much," rejoined the other, "it came out with too much force for that, I tell you. It was flowing from the tank, all right."
"We'll soon find out," proclaimed Merritt. "Give me the sounding stick out of that locker, Hiram."
Armed with the stick, Merritt rapidly unscrewed the cap of the fuel tank and plunged the sounder into it.
"There's quite a lot of gasoline in there yet," he exclaimed, with sparkling eyes, as he withdrew and felt the wet end of the instrument.