“She doesn’t get any gasoline,” said Nelson thoughtfully. “It surely hasn’t been shut off at the tank! No one has been trying any fool tricks like that, have they?”
There was a prompt and sober denial from each.
“Then,” said Nelson, “either the supply pipe is stopped up or the tank’s empty, and I don’t see how either is possible. Bring that light, Bob, will you? I’m going to measure.”
A moment later, when the measuring stick had been pulled out of the tank for the third time, perfectly dry, Nelson gave in.
“That’s it,” he said quietly. “The tank’s as dry as punk.”
“But I thought we had something like ninety gallons aboard,” said Bob.
“So did I. Either there’s a big leak in the tank or else they only gave us about ten gallons at the wharf. I wasn’t looking. Did anyone notice how much gasoline was put in?”
“Why, it couldn’t have been much,” answered Dan. “The young fellow that was doing it was only at it three or four minutes.”
“That’s it, then,” said Nelson. “It couldn’t be a leak. If it was, we’d smell it easily. Well, we can’t run the engine without gasoline. I ought to have seen to the filling of the tank, I suppose; but you’d think they could be trusted to do that, wouldn’t you? They’ll hear about it, all right!”
“Wh-wh-what are we gu-going to do?” asked Tom.