Dat's why I know
dere ain't no livery on dis wagon. Yo'll 'scuse me, but yo' am
slightly mistaken."
"All right," rejoined Tom with a laugh, not thinking it worth while
to explain what he meant by the lever force of the brake rod. "Let
it go at that. Livery or no livery, your brake will work now. I
guess you're all right. Now don't forget to come around and do some
whitewashing," and seeing that the colored man was able to mount to
the seat and start off Boomerang, who seemed to have deep-rooted
objections about moving, Tom wheeled his motor-cycle back to the
road.
Eradicate Sampson drove his wagon a short distance and then suddenly
applied the brake. It stopped short, and the mule looked around as
if surprised.
"It suah do work, Mistah Swift!" called the darky to Tom, who was
waiting the result of his little repair job. "It suah do work!"
"I'm glad of it."
"Mah golly! But yo' am suttinly a conjure-man when it comes t'
fixin' wagons! Did yo' eber work fer a blacksmith?"
"No, not exactly. Well, good-by, Eradicate. I'll look for you some
day next week."
With that Tom leaped on his machine and speeded off ahead of the
colored man and his rig. As he passed the load of fence posts the
youth heard Eradicate remark in awestricken tones:
"Mah golly! He suttinly go laik de wind! An' t' t'ink dat I were hit
by dat monstrousness machine, an' not hurted! Mah golly! T'ings am
suttinly happenin'! G'lang, Boomerang!"
"This machine has more possibilities in it than I suspected," mused
Tom.
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