"This paraffin will, I think," rejoined Desmond quietly. "Let's get the hose and try."
The hose was quickly forthcoming. It was about sixty feet in length—much longer than Desmond required.
"Cut it," suggested Flemming. "It's only an old one."
Desmond shook his head.
"It would be a pity to do that," he said. "You might want it some day. No; I think I can manage. Hold up that end, Jock."
Findlay did so. Desmond held up the other end, so that both ends were an equal height from the ground on which the remainder of the hose was resting.
Woodleigh was then directed to pour paraffin into the pipe until it was quite full. Both ends were then nipped tightly so that none of the oil could escape. Then Jock thrust the end he was holding into the Olivette's fuel tank, while Desmond, quickly releasing the pressure, jammed the other end of the hose into the barrel.
Save for a faint quivering of the pipe there were no signs of anything happening. Woodleigh looked inquiringly at the demonstrator.
"It's running all right," declared Desmond confidently. "You just look at the gauge."
"Well I'm blessed!" exclaimed Woodleigh. "You're right. It does save a lot of time, and there's no waste to speak of."