Woody was busy installing a new set of points on a V-8 on one side of the garage when he heard the deep throbbing note of a car pulling into the garage. It was not an engine he had heard before, and he looked up quickly from his work. There was the Black Tiger and Randy stepping out of the seat without going through the formality of opening the door.
Woody dropped his work on the V-8 and went right over.
"Hello," said Randy genuinely pleased to see him. "Busy?"
"Just putting some new points on that job," said Woody.
"I didn't realize you were a mechanic," said Randy. "Been working at it long?"
"I've worked with Worm nearly two years. But I studied automotive engineering for three years at night school."
"Hmmm," said Randy. "Say, is Worm around? I've got a problem for him."
Worm had by now come out of his office, where he was totaling up the day's business with a stub of a pencil in a notebook whose pages were gray with greasy thumb marks. It was an invariable practice of his.
"What's the trouble?" he asked.
"Got a job for you," said Randy. "I didn't want to bring it anywhere else because I think you're the only mechanic in this area who can tackle it. I've tried a couple of other places, but the Tiger is so new I'm not quite satisfied that they can do the work. It takes the kind of special training that you have."