"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. "But one thing I've got to change, and that is the gasolene and
spark controls. I don't like them the way they are. I want a better
leverage, just as Eradicate needed on his wagon. I'll fix them, too,
when I get home."

He rode for several hours, until he thought it was about dinner
time, and then, heading the machine toward home, he put on all the
speed possible, soon arriving where his father was at work in the
shop.

"Well, how goes it?" asked Mr. Swift with a smile as he looked at
the flushed face of his son.

"Fine, dad! I scooted along in great shape. Had an adventure, too."