"I've turned that darned propeller enough to fly from here to New York.

Why don't you get in and locate the trouble ?" "There ain't any trouble--not according to the look of things.

Acts like water in the gas, or something.

F'r cat's sake, don't lay down on the job now, bo! We gotta beat it outa here." "I'm ready to go any time you are," Johnny retorted, mopping neck and chest while he lay sprawled on his back.

"But I'd rather stay here till Christmas than get sun-struck trying to start, I'm all in." Bland could not budge him and swore voluminously while he worked over the motor.