At About this time every
year, Gus Wilson always gets a rash of S O S calls from the local farmers.
Quite a few of them who think they are handy with tools spend part of the
winter months trying to get their tracks and other farm gear in shape for
the spring. Then, when they get into trouble - and they often do -
they invariably call on good old Gus with a last minute fix it plea.
Most times
Gus doesn't mind. February and March usually are slow months at the
Model Garage. The big rush doesn't start until April when folks begin
thinking about getting their cars ready for warmer weather.
This year,
though, things got a little ahead of themselves. A few stretches of
downright balmy weather had Gus Wilson's shop jammed to the doors with
repair jobs and tune-ups by the end of February. As a result, the
veteran mechanic had to stick pretty close to his bench.
There was
one call for help, however, that Gus just couldn't bring himself to turn
down. It was from his old and very good friend Mel Mowbray. Mel
and his wife were two of Gus's favorite people.
It seems that Mel had a
new hired hand who'd talked Mel into letting him overhaul the tractor.
He'd evidently botched the job, because Mel had asked Gus to come to the
rescue.
So one
Sunday recently found Gus driving up the long lane that leads to Mowbray's
farm. As he neared the house, Mel headed toward him from the barn.
"Sure swell
of you to give up your Sunday and drive all the way out here to help us,"
Mel said appreciatively after Gus had parked his car.
"Can't let
an old friend down," Gus replied with a smile. "Besides," he added
with a weak, "I haven't had a piece of Mrs. Mowbray's deep-dish apple pie in
ages."
"How about a
cup of coffee right now, Gus?" he said ushering the mechanic into the big
farm kitchen.
A few
minutes later, after Mrs. Mowbray had brought them two steaming cups and a
plate of hot buttered biscuits, Mel began telling Gus his troubles.
"I'm in a
spot, Gus," he said. "This each spring has sort'uve caught me
unprepared. I'll be needin' my tractor pretty soon now and it's in no
shape to be of much use."
"What
happened? Your new hired hand take it apart and forget how to put it
back together again?"
"Not as bad
as that. Last fall, when we put it up for the winter, I knew that she
needed a general tune-up and probably new rings and a valve job. I
made my mistake by letting Frank-that's my hired hand - talk me into letting
him do the job. He meant well - wanted to save us the money."
Gus nodded,
reaching for another one of Mrs. Mowbray's biscuits.
"Well," Mel
continued, "he put in the new rings, ground the valves, and took care of a
few other repairs. Finished the job last Friday. He was a proud
youngster when he cranked her up and she took hold and purred like a
well-fed kitten. That is, he was proud until he gave her the gas.
Then she began to
sputter. Sounded like she was only hitting on three cylinders."
"Did he
check the timing?"
"Gus, he's
been checking everything ever since. The poor kid hasn't done anything
else. He's out there in the barn right now going over that engine
piece by piece."
"Let's amble
on out," suggested Gus, gulping the last swallow of his coffee.
"Tractors
aren't my meat, but maybe the three of us can gang up on the trouble."
As the two
men walked into the barn they found Frank, grease-smeared and dejected,
carefully checking the ignition wiring.
Gus Meets Susie the
Tractor
"Frank,"
called Mel, "this is Gus Wilson.
He's come out from town
to see if he can help us find out what's ailin' old Susie."
"Having
troubles, Frank?" Gus grinned as he gripped the younger man's hand.
"Since I
gather it's a she I wouldn't feel too bad. Females are always
temperamental.
Got any theories?"
"Gosh, Mr.
Wilson, that's just it, I haven't got a one," Frank admitted.
"Everything checks out as it should, yet she misses when you give her the
gas."
"Let's hear
her idle."
Just as Mel
had said, Susie started without a falter and idled smoothly.
"Now give
her the gas."
Frank complied and the
tractor engine picked up from a pleasant purr to a stuttering roar.
There was no doubt about it, Susie had a bad miss.
"It's the
No. 2 cylinder, I'm sure," Frank said after he had shut off the ignition and
climbed down from the tractor seat.
"No. 2
okay?" asked Gus, walking over to where Frank stood beside the tractor.
"Perfect, I
even switched plugs to make doubly sure, and No. 2 still missed," answered
Frank. "I've checked fuel, ignition, timing, and compression.
They're all okay."
"In other
words," said Gus scratching his chin, "everything about No. 2 is perfect
except she won't perk at anything above idling."
"That's
about it, Mr. Wilson."
"Susie ever give you any
trouble before?"
Gus asked turning to Mel.
Mel was
silent for a moment. "Well, come to think of it," he finally replied,
"she did run kinda rough when I first bought her a few years back. The
dealer worked on her a bit, but as I recall she finally smoothed down of her
own accord. I dunno, guess she was a little still or somethin'."
"Mind if I
check the valve clearances, Frank?" Gus asked, taking off his dress-up
coat and slipping on Frank's discarded jacket.
Valve Clearances Are All
Okay
"Sure
thing," answered Frank, holding out a set of feeler gauges. "It's a
cinch I've slipped up on something."
"What's the
clearance?" asked Gus as he reached for the gauges.
"The manual
says '.011' on both intake and exhaust."
Mel and
Frank watched while Gus removed the valve cover and proceeded to check
the valves for No. 2. Evidently satisfied that they were okay, he made
a quick check of the others.
"No
fault there," he announced. Then he hesitated for a moment and rubbed
his finger over a spot on the engine block.
"Humph," he
grunted. "Got the valve wrench handy, Frank?"
Somewhat
puzzled, Frank found the wrench in his toolbox. Gus took it and turned
back to the engine. When he finally straightened up, he said, "now
give her a whirl, Frank, and let's hear how she sounds."
Frank
climbed back up on the tractor seat and hit the starter switch. As
usual, Susie started up with a pleasant purr.
Gus nodded,
"And according to this firing order," he added pointing to the numerals
'1-3-4-2' cast into the engine block.
"No. 2's
intake valve would be open at the same time. I had a hunch that
something was preventing No. 2 from getting her full supply of fuel and
air."
"But what
could do that?" asked Mel.
"I didn't
have the slightest idea, Mel. Until you happened to mention that Susie
hadn't run too well when you first got her but that she'd settled down."
"I still
don't get it," said Frank, puzzled.
"Well, I
figured that the trouble must be connected with something that wasn't
overhauled," explained Gus, "something that could open No. 1's intake valve
when it shouldn't be open - like a little hump on the intake cam."
"A hump on
the intake cam?" repeated Mel.
Gus Explains a Simple Fix
"Yes, if
there was little hump on the intake cam at just the right point, it could
nudge No. 1' s intake valve open just a crack during its exhaust stroke.
That could build up enough back pressure in the intake manifold to prevent
the full mixture from ever getting to No. 2 on its intake stroke at anything
above idling speed. Might be one of those manufacturing defects that
sometimes - rarely - gets by the factory inspectors."
"But how did
you fix it?" asked Frank.
"Simple
enough. I just backed the No. 1 intake valve clearance off a bit so
the bump couldn't raise the intake valve. It's only a makeshift.
It'll hold for now, but when you have a lull in your plowing, I wish you'd
bring it down to the shop so we can grind that high spot off and readjust
the valve."
Frank had
little to say during dinner that Sunday. Then, as Gus was scraping the
last bit of Mrs. Mowbray's apple pie onto his fork, the young hired hand
said, "Sometimes two rights can make a wrong. Before you fixed her,
her valve clearances were off enough so that hump on the cam didn't matter.
When you ground the valves and made the clearances right, it did."
END
