Casy kneeled down and looked under again. Tom rattled the connecting-rod bearing against the shaft. “There she is.’’ “What ya s’pose done it?’’ Casy asked. “Oh, hell, I don’ know! This buggy been on the road thirteen years. Says sixty-thousand miles on the speedometer. That means a hunderd an’ sixty, an’ God knows how many times they turned the numbers back. Gets hot—maybe somebody let the oil get low—jus’ went out.’’
