the shed doors. The rain was falling in torrents and underfoot the light snow had turned to thin slush on the frozen ground. It was very dark.
He pushed the machine into the yard and hung a lantern over the dashboard for a headlight. Inside the shed Mrs. Ford, in a voice shaking with excitement, begged him to wait until morning, but he did not listen. The engine and steering gear were protected from the rain and no discomfort could have equaled for him the disappointment of another delay.
The time had come when he could prove his theories. He would not waste one minute of it.
The engine was already running. He stepped into the car, sat down, and slowly, carefully, tightened the pulley.
Then, in the first Ford automobile, he rode away from the old shed.
When he felt the machine moving under him he tightened his grasp on the steering lever. Suddenly the light of the lantern showed him a dozen things he had never noticed in the yard before. The clothes-pole loomed menacingly before him, a pile of flower pots seemed to grow out of all proportion to its ordinary size.
The machine wobbled unsteadily, while he desperately struggled to drive it in a straight line. He turned it from the flower pots, jerked it back in time to avoid running into the fence, and headed straight for the clothes-pole. It seemed to jump at him.
