“All right, Jerry,” said Willard soothingly. “You didn’t mean to do it, but don’t monkey with the buzz-saw again. Next time you might not be so lucky. Let him come in, Tom. There’s no harm done.”
“Well,” said Tom none too graciously, “he can come back with us. But he’s got to understand that he’s not to try any fool tricks like that again.”
“I won’t,” sighed Jerry. “I was scared blue. But—but, say, don’t you think I steered it pretty well?”
CHAPTER XV
AN AFTERNOON OFF
Jimmy Brennan was as good as his word and turned up at the garage promptly at half-past one. After taking the car out on the street for a little ways he ran it back, removed his coat and got down to business.
“Differential,” he said tersely as he seized a wrench.
A half-hour later the trouble was laid bare. A pinion had cast three of its teeth, and these, small lumps of steel, had worked in between the wheels and were raising what Jimmy termed “particular Cain.” He removed the damaged pinion and fished out all the particles of broken teeth he could find.
“You’ll have to have a new pinion,” he said finally, “but I guess you can run on this for a while after I’ve filed it a bit. It may take a week to get a new one, and I guess you don’t want to be laid up that long.”
They assured him that they didn’t. “But,” asked Tom, “are you sure it won’t do any harm to run with that thing busted like that?”