"I'll tell you what we can do!" cried Dick, with sudden energy. "Put your tackle on the back here and I'll pull the house far enough this way so I can get past. It's just at the wrong point in the road for me to do that now. Ten feet either way will let me pass." "I s'pose it will, but land sakes! you can't pull that house with anything you can rig up now. Where's your horses?" "Horses? I don't need horses. I've got seventy-five of 'em right here with me." The man's face was a picture of startled surprise. He looked from Dick to Paul and Innis, who were silently laughing, and then he inquired: "Which one of you is his keeper?" "What's that?" cried Dick. "Do you think I'm crazy?" "I'm sure of it," said the man, confidently. "Move this house--seventy-five horses--got 'em with you! Where? In your pocket?" "In there!" replied the young millionaire, pointing to the hood covering the engine of his auto. "I'll pull the house out of the way." By this time a crowd of workmen had gathered. Dick stood in front of his big car, not at all put out by the curious glances cast at him. "What's the matter here?" asked a man who seemed to be in charge. "This young feller wants to get past," explained the man who had been about to hang up the red lantern. "He can't 'count of Simpson's house bein' in the road. Says he'll snake it fo'rd or back so's to make room." "Back, not forward," said Dick. "I can't get past to hitch on to the front end or I'd haul it ahead for you. But, as it is, you won't lose more than ten feet, and I really have a right to half the road." "Yes, I s'pose you have," agreed the foreman. "But I don't see how we're going to give it to you. I never thought that windlass would bust so soon. I knowed it was an old one, but I figured it would last until we got Bill's house moved. Howsomever----" "I tell you I can move the house!" exclaimed Dick. "If you'll have your men attach the tackle to this end I'll pull it far enough back so I can get past." "How?" demanded the foreman, dubiously. "He says he's got seventy-five horses," put in the man with the red lantern. "I guess he's from some asylum," he added in a whisper loud enough for Dick to hear. The latter smiled and answered: "Perhaps I should have explained. My auto is about seventy-five horsepower. If you'll fix the ropes so I can hitch them to my rear axles I can pull the house far enough back so I can pass. I think I have a right to ask that." "Yes, I guess you have," assented the foreman. "We'll let you try. We can pull her back again in the morning after the windlass is fixed. Get busy, boys!" he exclaimed. "Put the ropes on this end." "But what about the windlass?" asked the lantern man, referring to the spindle on which the rope was wound. "I won't need it," declared Dick. "I can get enough purchase with the pulleys. I'll be turning the car around, and by that time you can have the ropes in place."