"Got any spark plugs?" asked Jimsy, as the machine came to a halt.
"Yes, all kinds," said the man, in a wheezy, asthmatic voice that
sounded like the exhaust of a dying-down engine.
"Good!" cried Jimsy, hopping out of the car.
"That is, we will have all kinds next week," went on the man; "I've
ordered 'em."
"Goodness, then you haven't any right now?"
"I've got a few. Possibly you might find what you want among them."
"I'll try, anyway," declared Jimsy.
The man led the way into a dingy sort of shed. On a shelf in a dusty
corner was a box.
"You can hunt through that," said the man wearily; "if you find what you
want wake me up."
"Wake you up?"
"Yes, I always take a sleep at this time of day. You woke me up when you
came in. Now I'm going to doze off again."
So saying he sank into a chair, closed his eyes and presently was
snoring.
"Dead to the world!" gasped Jimsy; "well, that's the quickest thing
in the sleep line I ever saw!"
As it was no use to waste further time the boy began rummaging in the
box.
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