probably did it so you could haul it along the road. I'll have it fixed for you in a few minutes. Wait until I get some tools."
From the bag on his motor-cycle Tom got his implements. He first unlocked the treadmill, so that the inclined platform, on which the animal slowly walked, could revolve. No sooner had he done this than Boomerang, feeling the slats under his hoofs moving away, started forward. With a rattle the treadmill slid around.
"Good land o' massy! It's goin'!" cried Eradicate delightedly. "It suah am goin'!" he added as he saw the mule, with nimble feet, send the revolving, endless string of slats around and around. "But de saw doan't move, Mistah Swift. Yo' am pretty smart at fixin' it as much as yo' has, but I reckon it's too busted t' eber saw any wood. I'se got bad luck, dat's what I has."
"Nonsense!" exclaimed Tom. "The sawmill will be going in a moment. All I have to do is to throw it into gear. See here, Rad. When you want the saw to go you just throw this handle forward. That makes the gears mesh."
"What's dat 'bout mush?" asked Eradicate.
"Mesh—not mush. I mean it makes the cogs fit together. See," and Tom pressed the lever. In an instant, with a musical whirr, the saw began revolving.
