A few farmers exchanged looks. Calvin turned away before the smiles behind him could become laughter. Martha rechecked the electrical readings, then cleared everyone from the machine. From the cab she could see June standing beyond the barrier with the notebook open and the meter ready. She turned the key. The starter engaged with a deep, dragging sound, then found its rhythm. The diesel engine rotated. A collective murmur rose behind the barrier, surprised and almost unwilling. Martha stopped after a short attempt, allowing the starter to rest.
Arthur Bell removed his cap. "Well, that means it ain't locked up," he said.
"It means it turns," Martha answered through the open window. "That's all we've proved."
But it was not a small thing. A machine Calvin had called dead was moving internally, and the difference could be worth thousands. Martha climbed down, checking the clock as she did. Ten after ten. More than an hour had passed on a repair that would have been minor in a controlled shop with the right history. Here every minute carried its own noise, and the auction did not slow because she was working. June recorded the starter result on the next line of the notebook. Martha took the pen briefly and added a note: ENGINE ROTATES. RUNNING CONDITION UNKNOWN.
The distinction drew a look from June. "You don't give yourself much credit."
"Credit comes when the machine earns it," Martha said. "If it doesn't start by noon, a nice sentence in my notebook won't haul Henry Lawson's corn."
They moved to the fuel system. The old filter housing showed a brown stain, and a fitting bore fresh wrench marks inconsistent with the dust around it. Martha inspected the accessible supply connections and took a small sample into a clear container. Water settled beneath the diesel. The result confirmed contamination without telling them whether the tank held enough clean fuel for the engine to run. She asked Walter whether maintenance supplies could be brought into the controlled area; he approved reasonable repairs under the signed conditions. June checked the spare parts in their truck and found a compatible filter, fresh hose, and clamps among the items Martha kept for field calls.
"You're going to use our parts on something we might not own," June said.
"Yes."
"That seems like a big gamble."
"It is," Martha admitted. "That's why we only spend what the evidence justifies."
June held the filter box in both hands for a moment. She knew how much the shop needed every dollar. A replacement filter would not bankrupt Sullivan Repair, but the sum of a dozen small expenses could, and the clock was making it easier to forget that. Martha read the hesitation on her face and explained something Leonard had once told her. Sometimes a diagnosis required a controlled expense. What mattered was deciding in advance how much you were willing to lose in pursuit of the answer. They had the ceiling written down. It applied to parts as well as bidding.
They inspected the aging hose, checked the accessible fittings, and replaced the components that failed inspection. Martha was careful to keep dirt away from open connections. She had seen a careless repair introduce a second failure worse than the first. With June keeping notes, they primed the fuel system and watched for leaks. The hand primer resisted, then moved more smoothly. Nothing seeped around the new fittings. The transparent temporary test section showed fuel moving toward the supply side. Martha made no promises. The engine had sat too long for promises.