st thing I
knew we'd started off with a roar and were tearin' up the hill on
second. We made the top, too.

"Now hold tight and save the gas," sings out Ann. "I'm going to coast
down this one full tilt."

Which she does. Barry bounces around a lot on his elbows and stomach,
but I had a firm grip on his legs and we didn't lose him off.

"More gas now!" calls Ann as we hits the bottom.

"Ouch! My tummy!" groans Barry.

"Never mind," says Ann. "Only three miles more."

Say, it was the weirdest automobilin' I ever did, but Ann ran with
everything wide open and we sure were coverin' the distance. Once we
passed a big tourin' car full of young folks and as we went by they
caught sight of Barry, actin' as substitute gas tank, and they all
turned to give him the haw-haw.

"Probably they--they think I--I'm doing this on a bub-bet," says Barry.
"I--I wish I were. I--I'd pay."

"Store ahead!" announces Ann. "Perhaps we can get some more gas."

It was a good guess. We fills the can and starts on again, with less
than two miles to go. I think Barry must have been a bit reckless with
that last quart for we hadn't gone more'n a mile before the engine
begins to choke and splutter. We were almost to the top of a hill, too.

"Gas all gone," says Barry, tryin' to climb back in.

"Go back!" says Ann. "Take the funnel off and blow in the feed pipe.
There! That's it. Keep on blowing."

You couldn't beat Ann. The machine takes a fresh spurt, we makes the top
of the hill, and halfway down the other side we sees Birch Crest. Hanged
if we don't roll right up to the front door too, before the engine gives
its last gasp, and Barry, covered with dust and red in the face, is
hauled in. We're only half an hour late, at that.

Course, the whole weddin' party is out there to see our swell finish.
They'd been watchin' for us this last hour, wonderin' what had happened,
and now they crowds around to ask Barry why he arrives hangin' over the
back that way. And you should have heard 'em roar when they gets the
explanation.

"See!" says Barry on the side to Ann. "I told you folks would laugh at
me."

"Poor boy!" says Miss McLeod, hookin' her arm into his. "Don't mind. I
think you were perfectly splendid about it."

"By Jove, though! Do you?" says he. "Would--would you risk another ride
with me, Ann? I know Adelbaran didn't show up very well but----"

"But your disposition did," cuts in Ann. "And if you're going to insist
on driving aro