“Mr. Cal, I believe he’s kidding these boobs.”

Finally Merry straightened up, and with his hand on the machine, stood in the posture of an orator about to speak.

“Buddy, this here engine has been monkeyed with by someone who doesn’t know the combination,” he said, blandly. “The carburetor has been detached from the ventriculator and the trolley wire is off. The ignition system has been jammed in the midriff. Then the juice no longer coincides with the perambulator, and as a consequence the spark plug is nix. Outside of that the engine is all right.”

“Gee! Isn’t there anythin’ more out of whack?” asked Cal, almost bursting with glee. Moreover, there was something marvelous happening. His hand had dropped to the seat and the girl, in her excitement, was squeezing it.

“That’s all I can see offhand,” replied Tuck, “except some parts are missin’. But I can make her run, all right, all right.”

That remark appeared to release Wess from whatever it was that had inhibited him.

“Say, stranger, are you tryin’ to josh me?” he queried, with a note of resentment in his drawl.

“I was addressing myself to the gentleman who offered me a ride,” replied Tuck, waving a huge hand at Cal.

“Wal, what’d you mean by thet crack aboot someone monkeyin’ with this car?”

“Mister, I meant what I said. Somebody has monkeyed with it.”

“Ahuh! Wal, I’m tellin’ you thet strangers in these parts better be careful what they say,” declared Wess, belligerently.

“Why so? Ain’t this a free country?” asked Merry, meekly.

“Reckon it is, but we’re shore particular,” growled Wess. “An’ we ain’t havin’ our fun mussed up by any long-legged beanpole of a scarecrow like you.”

“Oh, I see,” replied Merry, still more meekly, almost abjectly. “I didn’t mean any offense—just telling the truth that way.”

“Who’n hell are you, anyhow?” inquired Wess, curious, now that he had apparently intimidated the fellow.

“My name’s Merry and I’m looking for a job.”

“Merry, huh? Wal, thet’s shore a good handle, for you’re the funniest-lookin’ fellar I ever seen. Reckon you’d make some apple picker, but it ain’t a good year for apples.”

With that Wess dropped back beside Cal and resumed his genial air and slow drawl. “Wal, kid, I’ll relieve you of Miss Stockwell an’ get her home for dinner.”

Cal regarded his cousin for a long moment. Wess was in deadly earnest about his fun.

“Wess, I’d hate to tell you what I know,” said Cal, with mysterious good nature.

“Aw, now would you?” queried the other, banteringly. He did not know just how to take Cal’s change of aspect and tone. Then his keen eyes saw Cal’s hand over Georgiana’s and he actually gave a start.

“Wal, takin’ all in all, you ain’t so slow,” he said. “But considerin’ thet Miss Stockwell must be got home, I’ll have to tag you. Shore it’s a cinch you cain’t take her in this wagon.”

Whereupon he strode off toward the garage. Arizona and Pan Handle hurried after him, but Tim lagged behind long enough to shoot a hard look at Tuck Merry and a languishing glance at Miss Stockwell. Then he, too, strode after them.

“Tuck, hurry an’ hook up the engine,” said Cal, to his comrade. “Let’s rustle out of here.”

Merry bent over the machinery, dexterously using his big hands, while the bystanders stirred and shuffled on the porch. Some of them laughed and exchanged jesting remarks. The incident, however, did not appear to be closed. Cal caught the eyes of Bloom and Hatfield upon him and the girl.

“Holdin’ hands, heh?” queried Bloom, coarsely, in his loud voice, that instantly called attention to Cal and Georgiana.

It was Cal who blushed and withdrew the hand that had unconsciously covered hers. Even in the moment of sudden consternation and anger he saw that she showed surprising indifference to the attention thus rudely turned upon her. Merry jerked up quickly from his task over the engine. Bloom must have seen or felt contempt in the girl’s utter lack of embarrassment or shame.

“Wal, Bid,” he said, just as loudly, turning to Hatfield. “Thet bare-legged chicken is some looker, but you ain’t missin’ so much. Funny aboot these Eastern females—”

“Shut up!” yelled Tuck Merry, and moved away from the car toward the porch.

Cal jerked as if a startling current had shot through him.