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«
I
’
m
jus
’
gay
as
a
toad
in
spring
rain
,
"
said
Tom
.
«
Looka
the
engine
,
"
Al
pointed
.
«
Purty
good
,
huh
?
»
Tom
peered
in
.
«
Looks
awright
to
me
.
»
«
Awright
?
Jesus
,
she
’
s
wonderful
.
She
ain
’
t
shot
no
oil
nor
nothin
’
.
»
He
unscrewed
a
spark
plug
and
stuck
his
forefinger
in
the
hole
.
«
Crusted
up
some
,
but
she
’
s
dry
.
»
Tom
said
,
«
You
done
a
nice
job
a
pickin
’
.
That
what
ya
want
me
to
say
?
»
«
Well
,
I
sure
was
scairt
the
whole
way
,
figgerin
’
she
’
d
bust
down
an
’
it
’
d
be
my
fault
.
»
«
No
,
you
done
good
.
Better
get
her
in
shape
,
’
cause
tomorra
we
’
re
goin
’
out
lookin
’
for
work
.
»
«
She
’
ll
roll
,
"
said
Al
.
«
Don
’
t
you
worry
none
about
that
.
»
He
took
out
a
pocket
knife
and
scraped
the
points
of
the
spark
plug
.
Tom
walked
around
the
side
of
the
tent
,
and
he
found
Casy
sitting
on
the
earth
,
wisely
regarding
one
bare
foot
.
Tom
sat
down
heavily
beside
him
.
«
Think
she
’
s
gonna
work
?
»
