"That's the very thing!" he cried. "Why didn't I think of it
before?"
Leaving his motor-cycle standing against a tree Tom hurried to a
fence that separated the road from a field. The fence was a barbed-
wire one, and in a moment Tom had found a broken strand.
"Guess no one will care if I take a piece of this," he reasoned. "It
will answer until I can get more. I'll have it in place in a jiffy!"
It did not take long to get his pliers from his toolbag and snip off
a piece of the wire. Untwisting it he took out the sharp barbs, and
then was ready to attach it to the binding posts of the battery box
and the spark plug.
"Hold on, though!" he exclaimed as he paused in the work. "It's got
to be insulated, or it will vibrate against the metal of the machine
and short circuit. I have it! My handkerchief! I s'pose Mrs. Baggert
will kick at tearing up a good one, but I can't help it."
Tom took a spare handkerchief from the bundle in which he had a few
belongings carried with the idea of spending the night at an Albany
hotel, and he was soon wrapping strips of linen around the wire,
tying them with pieces of string.
"There!" he exclaimed at length. "That's insulated good enough, I
guess. Now to fasten it on and start.
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