“Same here, unless the old car has to be fixed in some way. Generally the tires aren’t holding any too well,” explained Bud. “But, then, a fellow mustn’t look a gift horse in the mouth; all it’ll cost us is the gas and lubricating oil. We c’n fix that up among us easy enough, eh, boys?”
So it was agreed that they should rendezvous at a certain spot as soon as possible. If Hugh could accomplish his several errands in any shorter time so much the better, he remarked. The three boys hastened away in as many different directions, each one making all possible speed, for their hearts were evidently in the work that now engaged their attention.
So well did luck stand by them, that before three-quarters of an hour had passed by the trio met again at the appointed place. Each carried a small package, and, besides, Bud had driven up in a rather dilapidated looking old car that doubtless had a past history, and now quite out of the running where speed was considered a prime requisite.
Still, as Bud himself had remarked, it was not polite to be too particular of a gift. The car might carry them in safety over the forty miles or more that lay between Oakvale and the mobilization camp; then, again, they might have a few punctures or blowouts, for the tires were certainly in poor condition.
Hugh looked the machine over, and raised his eyebrows expressively; whereat Bud hastened to say:
“Don’t condemn the old rattletrap yet awhile, Hugh. Sometimes things turn out mighty deceptive, you remember. She’s seen heaps of service in her day, for a fact, and been pretty dependable, too, I wager. May be she’ll behave scrumptuously for us on this trip. We’re going on an errand of mercy, and deserve encouragement, for a fact. Jump in, fellows, and we’ll get started.”
So they were soon off. The car groaned and wheezed when power was applied, and Blake looked pretty anxious until finally they began to move along the road out of Oakvale at a fair clip.
“Say, she seems to go pretty decent, after all!” declared the driver, for Bud, likewise Hugh, knew much about the mechanism of cars, and could pilot one as well as any boy around Oakvale. Blake was a novice at such things.
“We must be making as much as ten miles an hour right now!” laughed Hugh.
“Which rate of speed, if continued, would fetch us to the camp in less than five hours, wouldn’t it?” demanded the now sanguine Blake.