The little engine was still thumping and sputtering, although not as noisily as a few minutes before, hut Philip was uneasy. In his heart he repented that with sophomorific audacity he had undertaken to manage something that he did not really understand, and he decided that it would be a long time before he should again undertake to run a naphtha launch, at least without first receiving instruction as to its mechanism.
As soon as they had seen Mrs. Barlow and the girls safely on board the “Balloon,”—for it was only a step from the deck of the launch up the side ladder to the deck of the yacht,—Fritz turned to Philip, saying politely, “Can’t I help you with that engine? It seems to need something.”
“Why, certainly, if you can,” responded Philip, looking with some surprise at the younger boy whose appearance did not suggest a familiarity with machinery. Yet after Fritz had spent a few minutes examining the engine, he reported that he had found the exact cause of the difficulty. A certain valve which should have been open, had accidentally closed, and caused the trouble. One or two other little technical matters relating to the management of the engine Fritz was able to explain.
“How do you happen to know so much about this engine? The launch was made in Pennsylvania;” Philip looked with admiration on the younger boy.
“Oh, the principle is the same in all engines,” answered Fritz, “and there’s a boiler factory on the road to Beverly,
