CHAPTER XIII
PATTY’S INGENUITY
Philip turned the car around, and, in a few moments, they were swiftlyspeeding toward home.
“It’s awfully good of you,” he said, “to give me this little bit of yourtime all to myself.”
“I don’t think I gave it,” observed Patty, smiling; “I think you took itwhen I wasn’t looking.”
“Yes, and when no one else was looking, or I mightn’t have succeeded sowell. But it’s been a gorgeous ride, and now I’m going to take you rightback to home and mother. Do you suppose those people who went to see theocean are still looking at it? If so, it will be fun to drive right downto them.”
“Oh, don’t try it! Camilla cuts up dreadfully if she gets stuck in thesand. It’s the one thing she won’t stand!”
“All right, we’ll go right, straight, bang home, then. Whew! We havecome farther than I thought! We can’t see the lights of Spring Beachyet.”
“No; but I know where we are. It’s about three miles to Spring Beach.Put on a good speed, and we’ll soon do it. There’s not a thing in theroad, and I’ll trust your fast driving.”
“All right, my lady; here goes!” Van Reypen flung in the highest speedand they fairly flew. And then, quite suddenly and without any jar orjolt, or warning of any kind, they found themselves sitting quite still.Camilla had stopped of her own accord, and seemed absolutely disinclinedto proceed. There was no noise and no fuss, the car simply stoodmotionless.
“What did you stop for?” asked Patty, turning an enquiring face towardVan Reypen.
“I didn’t stop; she stopped herself. Your friend Camilla is not in suchhaste to get home as you are, and she wants to see the moonlight on thesea once again.”
“Nonsense! Didn’t you truly stop the car?”
“No, truly I didn’t, and, what’s more, I can’t make it go on.”
“Then something has happened!”
“Right-o! How clever of you to guess that! But it’s your car, and youknow its tricks and its manners. What does it mean when she stops likethis, gently but firmly?”
“I don’t know;” and Patty looked blankly bewildered. “She’s never donesuch a thing before. Of course something must be out of order,—but Ican’t think what. The tires are all right.”
“Yes, of course; it isn’t a puncture. But I can’t think myself what itcan be. Well, I’ll have to overhaul the engine and see what I can see.”
Van Reypen got out and began to investigate, but he could find nothingwrong in any part. “Has the charge given out?” he asked.
“No, the batteries are all right. It was fully charged this morning, andI used it very little to-day. She’s good for eighty or ninety mileseasily, and I haven’t run twenty to-day.”
“Then, I give it up. I do know something about cars, but I’m much moreexperienced with the gasoline motors. However, this is so beautifullymade, and yet so really simple of construction, that I feel I ought tounderstand it. You get out, and take a look.”
Philip held the lamp while Patty peered anxiously into the motor.
She didn’t understand fully all the complicated parts, but she had afair working knowledge of its main principles, and she, too, was unableto discover anything wrong or out of order.
“We’re in a lovely mess,” she observed, cheerfully, as she stood lookingat Philip.
“Yes, we’re up against it,” he rejoined, but his tone was as cheerful asher own, and they both laughed as they looked at each other. For, givena moonlight night, and two merry young people, it is not difficult tolook on the bright side of a motor misfortune.
“Now,” said Patty, philosophically, “what do we do next?”
“I’m not very familiar with this locality, but, if there were any chanceof a big car coming along, we’d ask them to tow us. The running gear ofthis car is all right.”
“Yes, and so is the steering gear. And the batteries seem to be inperfect order. I can’t imagine what’s the matter. However, I can informyou there’s precious little chance of any car coming along this way now.Seashore people always go to bed early, and they never ride at night,anyhow. No, we’ll have to walk home.”
“And leave the car here?”
“Yes; I hate to do it. But nobody can steal her, for she won’t go.”
“But somebody might steal her and tow her away. That is, if a car_should_ come along, and we weren’t here.”
“Oh, I can’t bear to think of that! I don’t want to lose my beautifulcar! What can we do?”
“I don’t see anything to do but to sit here in the car all night, and ofcourse we can’t do that. Nor can one of us go and one stay, for Iwouldn’t let you go alone, and I’m sure I wouldn’t let you stay herealone.”
“I think I’ll go,” said Patty, slowly. “You stay with the car, and I’llwalk home alone. It’s only three miles, and I’m sure it’s perfectlysafe; there’s no one abroad at this time of night.”
“Patty, I can’t let you do it;” and Philip Van Reypen looked deeplytroubled. “I can’t let you walk those three miles, alone, late atnight.”
“But you don’t want to go and leave me here, sitting alone in abroken-down motor car?”
“No; I can’t do that, either.”
“And we can’t both go,—and we can’t both stay! So it’s a dead—what doyou call those things?”
“A deadlock?”
“Yes, that’s what I mean. If neither of us can go, and neither of us canstay, and we can’t both go, and we can’t both stay, isn’t that a prettygood imitation of a deadlock?”
“It certainly is! Now, in those lovely motor car novels that peoplewrite, somebody would come along just in the nick of time, and fixeverything all right, and we’d all live happy ever after.”
“Yes; but we’re not in a novel, and I’m positive nobody will come alongso late. What time is it?”
“A little after eleven,” said Philip, looking at his watch. “Patty, Ican’t tell you how sorry I am that I got you into this scrape, and Imust figure some way to get you out! But it hasn’t come to me yet.”
Philip’s face was a picture of despair. He suddenly realised hisresponsibility in bringing Patty out here at night. It was done on asudden impulse, a mere frolicsome whim, and, if the car hadn’t brokendown, all would have been well.
“Don’t take it too seriously, Philip,” said Patty, in a pleading voice,for, now that she saw how he felt, she was sorry for him. “We’ll get outof this somehow! But, truly, I think the only way is for me to walk homeand send father’s big car back for you and Camilla. I sha’n’t mind thewalk half as much as I should mind sitting here, and waiting while yougo.”
“But, Patty, you can’t walk three miles in those little, high-heeledslippers.”
Patty looked down at her little evening shoes, with their French heels.They were not suitable for a three-mile walk, but that was a secondaryconsideration. “I _must_ go,” she said; “there is no other way.”
“Then I’m going with you,” declared Philip, stoutly. “And, if anybodysteals that car, I’ll give you another one exactly like it! I’ll have itbuilt to order, with the same specifications! This whole affair is myfault, and I’m going to get you out of it the best way I can.”
“It isn’t your fault! I won’t have you say so, just because that stupidold car chose the worst possible moment to break down! But, all thesame, I don’t know how I can walk three miles in these high-heeledslippers with you any better than I could without you.”
Philip grinned. “When you get tired, I’ll carry you,” he declared. “Itell you I’m going to get you out of this scrape, if it takes allsummer!”
“Well, it will, unless we start pretty soon. Come on, then.”
“Wait a minute. Suppose I take those heels off your shoes. Couldn’t youwalk better then?”
“Oh, fiddlesticks! I’m accustomed to high heels. I can walk in them allright.”
“Yes; and, first t
hing you know, they’ll throw you, and you’ll twistyour foot, and sprain your ankle——”
“Well, then you _will_ have to carry me,” said Patty, laughing. “But,before we start, do let’s try once more to make the car go. Maybe it’snothing but perverseness.”
But their efforts were unavailing, and Camilla stood stock-still in themiddle of the road, as if she never intended to move again.
“It would be like the One-Hoss-Shay,” said Patty, “only in that, youknow, every part dropped to pieces; and here nothing’s the matter withany part.”
“But there _must_ be something the matter,” declared Philip, who wasonce again examining the batteries; “and, by jingo, Patty,—I’ve foundit!”
“You have! What is it?”
“Why, the battery strap has separated, that’s all!”
“What is the battery strap? I don’t see any strap.”
“Oh, it isn’t a leather strap; it’s this band of lead that goes aroundthe battery, but they call it a strap. See this crack across it?”
“Oh, that little crack! Does that do any harm?”
“Why, yes, of course; it completely stops the current. You see, the twoends of the strap almost touch; if they did touch, we’d be all right.Now, if I had a little piece of lead to connect those two parts wherethey are separated, I could fix it in a jiffy! Got any lead?”
“I don’t know. Look in the tool-box.”
“Just a little piece of lead wire, or anything that’s lead.”
“Try a lead pencil,” said Patty, but Philip was poking in the tool-boxand paid little attention to her mild joke.
“There isn’t a lead thing here!” he exclaimed. “Your tool-box is tooeverlastingly cleared up! Every tool in a little pocket by itself! Whydon’t you have a whole lot of old rubbishy junk; then we might findsomething for an emergency?”
“Can’t you find anything that will do?”
“Not a thing! To think that, now we’ve found out what the trouble is, wecan’t mend it! and such an easy break to mend, if I just had a scrap oflead. Well, we may as well make up our minds to walk.”
“Oh, dear!” sighed Patty; “I didn’t mind walking so much when I thoughtthe car had really broken down. But just that little bit of a crevice inthe battery strap! Oh, can’t we mend it, somehow? Can’t you pull thestrap out longer or something?”
“No, angel child, there’s nothing doing without some lead. After this,always bring some lead in your pocket.”
“But I haven’t any pocket.”
“Ah, that explains the absence of the lead! If you had had a pocket, ofcourse you would have brought some lead. You’re excused.”
“Well, next time I’ll bring lead with me, you may be sure of that.”
“I hope you will, fair lady, and may I be here to use it! Now, shall westart for our moonlight stroll?”
“Wait a minute; I have a idea!”
“Something tells me your idea is a good one!”
“I don’t know whether it is or not. I’m afraid it isn’t. And I’m afraidto tell you what it is, for fear you’ll laugh at me.”
“I laugh? I, a man in charge of a broken-down motor, and a fair younggirl with French heels, and midnight drawing nearer and nearer! _I_laugh! Nay, nay, I’m in no laughing mood!”
“Well, if you’ll promise not to laugh, I’ll tell you,—or, rather, I’llshow you.”
From a little utility case, which was tucked away under the seat of themotor, Patty drew out a good-sized package of sweet chocolate. “I alwayscarry chocolate with me,” she said, “because it tastes so good when it’sdusty.”
“When the chocolate’s dusty?”
“No, of course not; when the road’s dusty, and your throat’sdusty,—chocolate’s awful good then.”
As she talked, Patty had torn off the outer wrapper, and showed thechocolate neatly wrapped in tinfoil. She took this off carefully, and,tossing the chocolate aside, folded the tinfoil into a long strip, whilePhilip gazed at her with dawning admiration in his eyes.
“There’s your lead,” she said, simply, as she handed him the strip.
“Patty, you’re a genius!” he exclaimed; “a perfect genius! How did you_ever_ think of that?”
“Will it do?”
“Do? Of course it will do! It’s just the very thing. I’ll wrap it aroundthat separated battery strap, and we’ll be off in two minutes!”
In really less than two minutes, Van Reypen had wound the strip oftinfoil in its place, had jumped into the car beside Patty, who wasalready in, and they were flying along at top speed.
“How _did_ you think of it?” he asked again, as they skimmed along. “Itwas terribly clever of you!”
“Why, I knew you wanted lead, and I knew tinfoil was lead. I was stupidnot to think of it sooner.”
“You’re a marvel to think of it at all! It was wonderful!”
“Oh, not at all; that’s nothing to what I can do when I really try! Havesome chocolate?”
Patty was in gay spirits now, for they were flying homeward through themoonlight, and she was spared the three-mile walk and her beloved carwas safe in her own possession.
“Yes, I will have some chocolate, thank you. We may as well take all thegoods the gods provide, while we can. I’m glad to get you home safely,but I can’t honestly say that I haven’t enjoyed this whole escapade. Canyou?”
“No,” said Patty, looking at him with a demure smile, “not _honestly_, Ican’t. But, all the same, I’m glad we could manage to ride home insteadof walk.”
“Yes, so am I; and it’s astonishing how hungry I am! Can you spare alittle more of that chocolate?”
“Yes, indeed;” and Patty broke off a generous bit; “but we’ll give yousome supper at ‘The Pebbles.’ I fancy they’ll be rather glad to see us!”
“Yes,” said Philip, grinning; “and I rather fancy we’ll get a warmreception,—and I’m not sure but we deserve it!”
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