The next morning, turning their faces resolutely toward the North, they pushed on through a country of surpassing greenness and charm. And so for days they traveled, lingering or not as the spirit moved them, but always following the North Star, which they seldom saw, being weary when night came and ready for bed as soon as supper was over.
All through this happy time, the “Comet” conducted himself so admirably that the good fairy must have touched him with her wand. Not once did he show any indication of balking over his labors. But the worm will turn, even when it is a magnificent worm fitted with a gasoline engine and rubber tires, and the “Comet” at last indulged in what appeared to be a nervous breakdown.
It was while they were still in the “border country,” and the road ambled along through a valley shut in by foothills on one side and a gurgling, busy little river on the other. First it was the rear tire that burst with a loud report, waking the echoes in that quiet region.
“What a nuisance,” exclaimed Billie, “now we shall have to lose time while we put on another.”
“We have plenty of time to lose, it strikes me,” put in Miss Campbell. “For my part, I’ve forgotten there was such a thing as time.”
“But it’s always loss of time when one has to mend broken things,” answered her impatient relative, in whom the going-on fever was becoming a highly developed quality.
Out they scrambled and Billie and Mary went to work to replace the tire, Feargus, their courier, who had proved a light-hearted and agreeable companion, helping them all he could.
Miss Campbell, placidly watching them from her cushion on a green bank at the side of the road, felt that punctured tires were a small incident in the scheme of affairs. Several country vehicles passed while they labored, and at last a country fellow driving a one-horse cart drew rein and regarded them with grave interest.
“Tha’ wouldst do better wi’ a horse that only casts a shoe once an’ a while,” he observed.
Feargus smiled.