“’S matter?” asked Jerry eagerly.
“I don’t know. I wish I did. Something’s busted, I guess. She started to act that way when I took her out of the garage.”
“Maybe she didn’t want to get up so early,” suggested Jerry. “Maybe she’s still asleep and snoring. What you going to do?”
“I don’t know,” answered Tom disconsolately. “She seems to run all right, but I’d hate to take her through town making such a racket. I guess I’ll have to get Jimmy Brennan to look her over. I’m going over to Will’s now.”
“Would it make it any worse if I went along?” asked Jerry eagerly.
Tom shook his head. “I don’t suppose so. Get in. Gee, there it goes again!”
“Sounds as if she was falling to pieces, don’t it?” asked Jerry cheerfully. “Didn’t leave a screw-driver or a wrench or anything like that inside her, did you?”
“Don’t be a chump,” growled Tom as he steered into Lincoln Street. At the Morris’, Grace, Willard’s sister, came out to the gate and informed them that Willard was at his father’s shop on the next street. So, after Grace had been acquainted with the catastrophe and had properly sympathized, The Ark thumped her way around to Logan Street. By that time Jerry was talking baseball, but found a very uninterested audience in Tom. High school was to play a team from the cotton mill that afternoon, and Jerry, who had succeeded to the position of second baseman in the absence of Jordan, was full of what they were going to do to their opponents.
“Billy’s going to pitch and it will be a dandy game. Are you coming out?”