Irene wheeled herself out and joined Uncle Peter and Mary Louise in watching the boy attach the tires, which were on demountable rims and soon put in place. All were surprised at Bub's sudden exhibition of energy and his deft movements, for he worked with the assurance of a skilled mechanic.
"Now, we need gasoline," said Mr. Conant. "I must order that from
Millbank, I suppose."
"Onless ye want to rob Will Morrison's tank," agreed Bub.
"Oh; has he a tank of gasoline here?"
Bub nodded.
"A undergroun' steel tank. I dunno how much gas is in it, but ef ye forced me I'd hev to measure it."
Peter picked up a stick and shook it threateningly, whereat Bub smiled and walked to the rear of the garage where an iron plug appeared just above the surface of the ground. This he unscrewed with a wrench, thrust in a rod and drew it out again.
"'Bout forty gallon," he announced. "Thet's 'nough fer a starter, I guess."
"Then put some of it into the machine. Is there any oil?"
"Plenty oil."