For a moment he could not speak; then when he had caught his breath he exclaimed excitedly:
"How can I get some gasoline?"
His rescuer laughed at the fevered question.
"Why, I happen to have a can of it here on my truck," he drawled, "and I can let you have part of it if you are so minded."
"Oh, I don't want to take yours," objected the boy.
"Nonsense! Why not? I am going right past a garage on my way back and can get plenty more. We'll tip enough of mine into your tank to carry you home. It won't take a minute."
The suggestion was like water to the thirsty.
"All right!" cried Stephen. "If you will let me pay for it I shall be mightily obliged to you. I'm mightily obliged anyway."
"Pshaw! I've done nothing," protested the person in the oily jumper. "What are we in the world for if not to do one another a good turn when we can?"
As he spoke he extricated from his conglomerate load of lumber, tools, and boxes a battered can, the contents of which he began to transfer into Stephen's empty tank.