said Dorothy in
alarm. "We should have started an hour ago."

"But the potatoes were not done," Tavia reminded her, "and we never
could have left without eating them after carrying cords and cords of
wood to the oven."

"Get aboard," called Nat, "I'll take the wheel now, Ned. I'm entirely
thawed out."

It had certainly been a delightful day, even the accident at the spring
was now merely an event to laugh at, while the meal on the big chestnut
stump, beside the camp-fire, had been so enjoyable, and now, all that
remained was the pleasant ride home. That is all that appeared to
remain, but automobile rides, like chickens, should not be counted
until all is over, and the machine is safely put up for the night.
Chickens have the same tendency as have autos toward surprises--and
disappointments.

"There's a hill," remarked Ned, quite unnecessarily, as a long stretch
of brown road seemed to bound up in front of them.

"A nice climb," acquiesced Nat. "Now, Birdy, be good. Straight ahead.
No flunking now--steady," and he "coaxed" the machine into a slow, even
run, that became more and more irksome as the grade swelled.

"But when we get at the top?" asked Tavia.

"We will not stay there long," answered Nat, "for if there is one thing
this machine likes to do it is to coast down hill."

The Fire-Bird made its way up the steep grade, and presently, as Nat
predicted, turned the hill-crest and "flew" down the other side.

The swiftness of the motion made conversation impossible, for the
machine was coasting, the power being off, and surely the Fire-Bird was
"flying through the air."

Reaching the level stretch again, Nat threw in the clutch, but a
grinding and clanking noise answered his movement of the lever.

"Hello!" called Ned from the rear. "Busted!"

"Something wrong," agreed Ned, looking at the spark and gasoline
controllers.

Presently, as the boys expected, the machine slowed up, and then came
to a stop.

Both were out at once, and they examined the mechanism together.

"It's the leather facings on the friction clutch," declared Ned. "See
that one worn off?"

"Guess that's right," answered Ned. "Well, now for a horse."

"I sold my wheel for an automobile; Get a horse! Get a horse!" sang
Tavia, while she and Dorothy climbed out to join the inspection
committee.

"Is it bad?" asked Dorothy.

"Bad enough to stall us until we can get it fixed up somewhere," said
Ned. "We'll have to take par