cern his wheel.

The chain had come off the two sprockets and was lying to one side.
Tom picked it up and ascertained by close observation that the screw
and nut holding the two joining links together was lost.

"Nice pickle!" he murmured. "How am I going to find it in all this
dust and darkness?" he asked himself disgustedly. "I'll carry an
extra screw next time. No, I won't, either. I'll ride my motor-cycle
next time. Well, I may as well give a look around. I hate to walk,
if I can fix it and ride."

Tom had not spent more than two minutes looking about the dusty
road, with the aid of matches, for the screw, when the rain suddenly
began falling in a hard shower.

"Guess there's no use lingering here any longer," he remarked. "I'll
push the wheel and run for home."

He started down the road in the storm and darkness. The highway soon
became a long puddle of mud, through which he splashed, finding it
more and more difficult every minute to push the bicycle in the
thick, sticky clay.

Above the roar of the wind and the swishing of the rain he heard
another sound. It was a steady "puff-puff," and then the darkness
was cut by a glare of light.

"An automobile," said Tom aloud. "Guess I'd better get out of the
way."

He turned to one side, but the auto, instead of passing him when it
got to the place where he was, made a sudden stop.

"Want a ride?" asked the chauffeur, peering out from the side
curtains which somewhat protected him from the storm. Tom saw that
the car was a large, touring one. "Can I give you a lift?" went on
the driver.

"Well, I've got my bicycle with me," explained the young inventor.
"My chain's broken, and I've got a mile to go."

"Jump up in back," invited the man. "Leave your wheel here; I guess
it will be safe."

"Oh, I couldn't do that," said Tom. "I don't mind walking. I'm wet
through now, and I can't get much wetter. I'm much obliged, though."

"Well, I'm sorry, but I can hardly take you and the bicycle, too,"
continued the chauffeur.

"Certainly not," added a voice from the tonneau of the car. "We
can't have a muddy bicycle in here. Who is that person, Simpson?"

"It's a young man," answered the driver.

"Is he acquainted around here?" went on the voice from the rear of
the car. "Ask him if he is acquainted around here, Simpson."

Tom was wondering where he had heard that voice before. He had a
vague notion that it was familiar.

"Are you acquainted around here?" obedie