He would give father-in-law a chance to throw a fit, next morning.
He set his suit case in the tonneau, went out of the little door, edged around to the front and very, very cautiously he unlocked the big doors and set them open.

He went in and felt the front wheels, judged that they were set straight, felt around the interior until his fingers touched a block of wood and stepped off the approximate length of the car in front of the garage, allowing for the swing of the doors, and placed the block there.

Then he went back, eased off the emergency brake, grabbed a good handhold and strained forward.
The chains hindered, but the floor sloped to the front a trifle, which helped.

In a moment he had the satisfaction of feeling the big car give, then roll slowly ahead.

The front wheels dipped down over the threshold, and Bud stepped upon the running board, took the wheel, and by instinct more than by sight guided her through the doorway without a scratch.
She rolled forward like a black shadow until a wheel jarred against the block, whereupon he set the emergency brake and got off, breathing free once more.