"Do you need any
help?" he went on.
"I'm sure I--er--that is, I hardly know," stammered Cora. She was
not altogether certain about the state of the auto. "I'm afraid
we've been very--very impolite--to splash water, and--er--mud all
over you," she added.
"Not at all--not at all," he assured her. "I never saw a better--a
better turn, so to speak. You are very plucky, if I may be permitted
to say so. I--er--I almost said my prayers when I saw you racing
down toward the train. Then I saw you turn in here. But what
happened that you couldn't stop before?"
"The brake," replied Cora. "It refused to work. This is a new
car--our first trip, in fact."
"Oh, I see," replied the young man. "Well, I know a little about
cars. Perhaps I can run her out for you. Just let me try."
Cora shifted over to the other side, leaving the wheel free. The
young fisherman cranked up, from a very insecure and muddy footing
in the middle of the pond. There came a welcome "Chug! chug! chug!"
The auto was all right, after all.
The young man climbed in. The spot of mud was still on his nose,
and Cora felt an insane desire to laugh. But she nobly restrained
it. He took the wheel and threw in the low speed gear.
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