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Updated: May 10, 2025
That night he once more pitched his tent in the trail, hoping in his heart that some one would drive along and dispute his right to camp there; when he would lick the doggone cuss. On the fourth day, after a long, fatiguing session with the vitals of a Ford that refused to be cranked, Casey was busy gathering brush, for his supper fire when Fate came walking up' the trail.
"Were moving at last!" called Step Hen excitedly, as the machinery started to go with a rush, after Thad had cranked the engine. Allan stood by the wheel, and as the prow of the boat gurgled through the clear waters of the great lake, every scout was thrilled with the vast possibilities that faced them, now that their cruise had begun.
Please send some of your men over to take charge. Two hours from now call up Mr. Grimm at Secret Service headquarters in Washington and he will explain. Good-by." And a few minutes later Mr. Grimm walked along the road toward an automobile a hundred yards away, bearing Miss Thorne in his arms. The chauffeur cranked the machine and climbed to his seat. "Washington!" directed Mr. Grimm.
Excitedly he slammed the receiver of the telephone on its hook and sent word to the man in charge of the automobile. The latter immediately cranked up his car, and a few minutes later the big limousine rolled quietly up to Tom's dormitory.
A moment passed, then another; he cranked once more, but as the motor was seized with a fit of shuddering the two white-fronted figures turned the upper corner and approached. Their relative positions were unchanged. The block was a short one, yet they seemed winded. Bergman was sobbing now like a woman, and he was followed by three curious newsboys.
Within a mile of Furnace Lake he stopped, took an unsatisfying sip from his big canteen and emptied the rest of the water into the radiator. Then he replenished the oil in the motor generously, cranked and went bumping along down the trail worn rough with the trucks from Lucky Lode.
But he shoveled the rear wheels out, waded back to the tiny island of solid ground and gathered an armful of brush, which he crowded in front of the wheels, covering himself with mud thereby; then he tied the tow rope he carried for emergencies like this, waded to the Ford, cranked and trusted the rest to luck.
I swallowed a half-spoken word that tasted bitter as it went down. Then I cranked again. There seemed to be nothing else to do. It was a hot day; hot sweat blinded me, and trickled off the tip of my nose. My hands began to develop blisters. Finally, a deep disgust seized me. I once saw a tender-hearted lady on her knees in the dust before a balky auto.
I haven't any corps of assistants to hold me back till the right moment and then give me a shove, so the best I can do is this. Give a quick slash right here when I shout. And whatever happens don't be alarmed. I'll come back to you safe and sound, never fear. And this afternoon it's 'All Aboard for Boston!" Smiling and confident, he cranked the motor.
The lower spindle should be an inch longer than the width of the front, to allow for a cranked end, to which the closing spring will be attached. Having cut out the halves of the shutter, solder the spindle wires to one edge of each on what will be the back side.
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