pine
with a nonchalance that aroused Clint's admiration and envy. He wondered
whether he would ever own a car and be able to go dashing through the
scenery at forty miles an hour like this. And he was still wondering
when something happened.

It happened so quickly that it was all over before it had begun. At
least, so Amy declared afterwards. The car, which fortunately had
decreased its speed to negotiate an abrupt turn in the road, suddenly
shot down a slope at the left, turned around once and stopped with a
disconcerting abruptness, its radiator against a four-inch birch tree.
Clint and Amy picked themselves from the bottom of the tonneau and
stared, more surprised than frightened. Behind them, on the level road,
a wheel--present investigation showed that it was the forward left
one--was proceeding firmly, independently on its way! As they looked,
open-mouthed, it began to wobble, as though doubtful of the propriety of
going off on its own hook like that, and finally, after turning around
several times, like a dog making its bed, it subsided in the dust.

The driver of the car, still clutching the steering-wheel, turned a
mildly surprised gaze on the boys. "Now, what," he asked slowly, "do you
think of that?"

They both thought it decidedly strange, but they didn't say so. Clint
laughed uncertainly and took a long breath and Amy viewed his
surroundings interestedly.

"When," asked Amy, "does the next car go, please?"

That flippant remark broke the tension and the driver climbed gingerly
out and viewed the bare hub. "It's lucky," he ruminated, "I had you
fellows in back there. If you hadn't been there I guess she'd have
turned turtle on me. Well, say, I've known this old boiler to do a heap
of tricks, but this is a new one on me, all right!" He stood off and
sought inspiration by scratching his head. The boys joined him on the
ground. "Just naturally slid off the hub and rolled away!" murmured the
youth. "What do you think of that?"

"I'd hate to tell you what I think of it," responded Amy. "Can you put
it on again?"

"Yes, but it won't stay, because the nut's gone." He went off and
rescued the wheel. "I guess the nut and the hub-cap came off down the
road somewhere. Might look for 'em, but like as not they're a mile or
two back."

"What will you do then?" asked Clint.

"Foot it to Wharton, I guess. Maybe I can find a telephone this side
somewhere." He reflected. "I guess there's one at Maxwell's Stock Fa