Steve and the Steam Engine

by Sara Ware Bassett

Steve, studying the road map, was too much interested in tracing out the route they were to follow to notice that after the car had spun along smoothly for several miles its speed lessened, and it was not until it came to a complete standstill that he aroused himself from his preoccupation sufficiently to see that his father was bending forward over the starter.

"What's wrong, Henry?" inquired his wife from the back seat.

"I can't imagine," was the impatient reply. "Had I not left the tank with gasoline in it, I should say it was empty; but of course that cannot be the case, for I always keep enough in it to carry us to the garage. Otherwise we should be stalled at our own doorstep and not able to get anywhere."

Climbing out, he began to unscrew the metal top of the tank while Stephen watched him in consternation.

The boy did not need to hear the result of the investigation for already the wretched truth flashed upon him. The tank was empty; of course it was! He knew that without being told. Had not the workman who had replenished it Wednesday said quite plainly that there was only enough gas in it to get him home to Coventry? He should have remembered to stop at the garage and take on an extra supply on the way back as his father always did. How stupid he had been! In his haste to get home he had forgotten every other consideration and the present dilemma was the result of his thoughtlessness. Yet how could he have stopped at the Coventry garage even had he thought of it? All the men there knew him and his father, and if he had gone there or had even driven through the center of the town somebody would have been sure to see him and mention the incident. Why, it was to avoid this very danger that he had returned by the less frequented way.

The man in the brown jeans had certainly calculated to a nicety when he measured out that gasoline. He had not meant him to do any more riding that day; that was apparent. What business was it of his, anyway, and why was he so solicitous as to where he went? There was something puzzling about that man. Steve had thought so at the time. Not that it mattered now. All that did matter was that here they were stalled at the side of the road in almost the same spot where he had been stalled the other day; and they were there because he had neglected to procure gasoline.

The lad felt the hot blood throb in his cheeks. Again the chance for confession confronted him and again his tongue was tied. In a word he could have explained the whole predicament; but he did not. Instead he sat as if stunned, the heart inside him pounding violently. He saw that his father was not only deeply annoyed but baffled to solve the incident.

"The gas is all out; that's the trouble!" he announced.

"What are we going to do, Dad?" inquired Doris anxiously.

"Oh, we can get more all right, daughter," returned her father reassuringly. "Don't worry, my dear. But what I can't understand is how we come to be in such a plight."