“Oh, I’ll play you for fifty points, if that’s what you want,” said Dan, “but I won’t wager staying.” “Then I won’t play. You’d probably beat me easily. That’s game. Set ’em up, Curt.” “Well, if we’re going back, we’d better start,” said Gerald. “It’s almost nine o’clock. You fellows play a game and I’ll go out and look at the car.” He left the room and the others went on with their game. And after that was over they played another and then another, and it wasn’t until they were starting a fourth that Gerald returned looking very grave: “Say, you fellows, come on out and help me shove the car into the shed, will you? Something’s wrong with her and she won’t start.” CHAPTER XXI AT THE “WASHINGTON’S HEAD” “Won’t start!” exclaimed Ned. “Won’t start!” cried Dan. “She’s got to start!” Kendall looked supremely grave. Gerald shrugged his shoulders: “Well, come and help me put her in the shed and I’ll see if I can find the trouble.” Then began a half hour of investigation by Gerald. The others held lanterns and offered suggestions. Ned was especially helpful. “The trouble,” he explained airily, “is with your battery. It can’t bat.” “I get a perfectly good spark,” replied Gerald with apparent irritation. “As far as I can see the trouble’s in the engine.” “Let us take it to pieces,” said Ned. “Don’t be a silly goat,” growled Dan. “There’s no use spending the night out here, anyway. Kick the old wagon in the shins, Gerald, and we’ll see if we can get a carriage to take us back.” “We won’t get any carriage at this time of night,” said Ned. “Why, it’s long after nine! Fancy being out so late. It’s me for bed!” “That’s sensible,” replied Gerald, closing the hood. “We might just as well stay here and go back early in the morning. We can get to school by half-past eight. I’ll get Mr. Collins on the telephone and tell him we’re broken down.” Dan was silent a moment. Then, “All right,” he agreed, with a shrug of his shoulders. “But you’d better let me talk to Collins.” “On the contrary, or, as I say so gracefully in French, _au contraire_, Gerald had better do it. You see it’s his car and his breakdown. Let him face the music.” “All right,” said Dan again. He was much too sleepy to offer further objections. Even the prospect of having to retire without pajamas seemed of little moment. If only he could reach a bed! Gerald hid himself in the telephone booth for five minutes, and, judging from the mutterings that leaked out, talked to someone. Then he announced that everything was all right and they climbed the stairs to two big, low-ceilinged rooms on the front of the house. In one of them Dan went through the motions of undressing――it was the others who really performed the task for him――dabbed his face and hands in water, knelt by the bed to say his prayers and promptly fell asleep there and was finally lifted between the sheets. “Night,” he murmured. Then, waking for an instant, “Where’d I get these pajamas?” he asked.