The Waterbury Democrat., 1938-04-26

| "AS a CeSLlmOny, WncH thCy eHN home, that they were actually abroad"
 Across the hills the colorS were beginning to deepen in the late afternoon shadows, and already the heat haze which blurred the horizon was being disputed by the cool breeze from the sea. MT. Gregory looked at his watch. We mustn't stay too long. The ship sails at seven."
 What time is it now?"
 "Fivc- thirty. Suppose we have one more drink"
 It was nearly six when they left the club, and now the sun hung low over the farthest rim of the mountains. Night would fall quickly in the valley.
 This time they did not have to search for their three musketeerS; the boys were in front of the club awaiting them expectantly.
 Big ship go soon," their inter preter reminded them, with an air of responsibility.
 "Yes. We must go fast MT. Gregory settled himself beside Joyce. Quarter past six," he noted, glancing at his watch. we've plenty of time."
 Some car," the driver an- nounced with experience as they drove off, some car go seex mile in seex minute. He placed the accent on the second syllable of minute"
 That's right" MT. Gregory conceded.
 The interpreter shook his head. Not thees car,' he pointed out disparagingly.
 Some time, thees car" the driver corrected him sharply.
 Mon. Not thees car" The in- terpreter was emphatic.
 Now the third boy, the guide who spoke no English, raised his voice in question; in deference to him they resumed the argument in their na- tive tongue. Words flew fast.
 Our chauffeur seems to be fighting for the honor of his car" Joyce laughed.
 I'd rather he kept his eyes on the road" MT. Gregory replied morosely.
 Presently the boy at the wheel bent forward, jiggled a few levers, and waited expectantly. There was a quick response to his ef- forts; the tune of the motor changed from a rumble to a deep threatening roar, accented by staccato back firing. But the car leaped forward to a new lightning pace of about 50 mics an hour.
 The driver bent forward to catch the eye of his doubling as- sociate. His words were unintel- igible, but his tone said distinctly: There! What did tell you?"
 The car shook under the tre- mendous pressure and in the back seat the customers were jolted about until their teeth chattered.
 "Hey!" cried MT. Gregory. Wait 8 minute!"
 The driver turned and smiled, mistaking the order for a compli- ment.
 Stop, I say! Stop!" It was the motor which obeyed his command. It gave one deep spasmodic choke, followed by sev- eral puny put-put-pu, gasps; then with a long whispering sigh, Il died out altogether. The three boys looked at each other in con- sternation. MT. Gregory groaned.
 Sounds like we're out of gas, Joyce remarked woefully.
 Their driver quickly disproved that theory by the old expedient of poking a stick down into the tank to measure. It was half full. The other boys peered uncertainty beneath the hood, their black faces long in distress. Their magic wagon had stopped!
 MT. Gregory loaned his superior intelligence to a study of the sit- uation, but his knowledge of me- chanics was quite obviously lim- tied. They cranked the engine; they shook the car, they craWled under the chassis and looked up; they jiggled wires. But nothing brought response from the ex- hausted motor. Minutes passed quickly, and now seven o'clock was not long of, and down in the harbor the Empress was blowing last warning calls to come aboard. well have to get another carl" MT. Gregory cried excitedly. "Where?"
 He mopped his brow nervously; on all the road there was no sign of any other vehicle.
 But what will we do?" There was a tremor in his voice. Now that darkness was almost upon them, the country was sud-