on dis wagon. Yo'll 'scuse me, but yo' am slightly mistaken."
"All right," rejoined Tom with a laugh, not thinking it worth while to explain what he meant by the lever force of the brake rod. "Let it go at that. Livery or no livery, your brake will work now. I guess you're all right. Now don't forget to come around and do some whitewashing," and seeing that the colored man was able to mount to the seat and start off Boomerang, who seemed to have deep-rooted objections about moving, Tom wheeled his motor-cycle back to the road.
Eradicate Sampson drove his wagon a short distance and then suddenly applied the brake. It stopped short, and the mule looked around as if surprised.
"It suah do work, Mistah Swift!" called the darky to Tom, who was waiting the result of his little repair job. "It suah do work!"
"I'm glad of it."
"Mah golly I But yo' am suttinly a conjureman 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.
