just ahead of him a white church on the lonely country road. To one side was a long shed, where the farmers were in the habit of leaving their teams when they came to service.
"Just the thing!" cried the boy; "and just in time!"
He turned his motor-cycle into the yard surrounding the church, and a moment later had come to a stop beneath the shed. It was broad and long, furnishing a good protection against the storm, which had now burst in all its fury.
Tom was not very wet, and looking to see that the model, which was partly of wood, had suffered no damage, the lad gave his attention to his machine.
"Seems to he all right," he murmured. "I'll just oil her up while I'm waiting. This can't last long; it's raining too hard."
He busied himself over the motor-cycle, adjusting a nut that had been rattled loose, and putting some oil on the bearings. The rain kept up steadily, and when he had completed his attentions to his machine Tom looked out from under the protection of the shed.
"It certainly is coming down for keeps," be murmured. "This trip is a regular hoodoo so far. Hope I heve it better coming back."
As he looked down the road he espied an au-
