The Good Samaritan

This is one embarrassing story. It happen evening last having gone to bring home another heavy load of hay. Shane took off with tractor with the hay baler in tow. He got as far as the nearest rural crossroad (a dangerous one at that) the tractor dieing plum centered the roads all four ways. Truck loaded, wagon dropped, I was on my way.
Upon arrival found Ollie had run out of fuel. Crappola! Best I could do was pull tractor and baler off side road out of that inner section. Was a tug but Dumpy handled it. My making a cell call for diesel a fellow pulling up along side asked if I needed some help. I told him we needed fuel. “how much?” he asked telling me “I’ll be right back.” He was too. Before the fuel poured into tractor was all poured into Ollie I was hand pumping the fuel, priming the fuel system. It took awhile. Had to also turn truck around for nose’to’nose jumper cables. We were a half to three quarters priming and charging before Ollie came to renewed life again. Shane was on his way, I thanked all the folks who’d gathered around for moral support, and particularly the good Samaritan bringing us fuel. He was also a farmer having been there, doing that. He refused my money.
I returned to the hay field only a half mile away. Found the wagon had been loaded. Wagon hitched up and ran into rain coming home. Goofy Dumpy truck having stood where I had parked for the battery jump, the tires had cooled off and when I had gotten back on the road those tires thump, thump, thumped before they had warmed up half the way to Otisville, the little village about half my way home. Thankfully nobody stepped forward to have showen me how to properly check a machine for fuel. (ark)
“Rainbows.”
Fernan