CHAPTER XIII

ANOTHER DISAPPOINTMENT

Jerry had instinctively jammed on both the foot and the hand emergency brake as he felt the big car slipping. It came as natural to do this as it does to one to put out his hands when he is falling. Jerry had been in too many tight places not to know what to do when confronted with sudden danger.

And the brake bands had not ceased their shrill squeaking, which could be heard above the roar of the storm, before Ned and Bob yelled in chorus:

“Hold her, Jerry!”

“I am holding her,” was the grim response. “And don’t you fellows move too suddenly, or we’ll go over. Get out as easily as you can while the getting’s good!”

“What--what happened?” panted Bob, between thunder claps, as he peered ahead to see by the intermittent lightning what their position was.

“She’s almost over the brink--that’s what happened,” answered Jerry. “I don’t know whether she’s going to stay here or not. Get out, while you can, and we’ll decide what to do.”

“We’ve got a rope and a pulley,” volunteered Ned. “We may be able to haul her back on the road.”

“The first thing is to get out and save ourselves,” were Jerry’s next words. “Then we can talk about what to do. Open the side doors carefully, fellows, and step out as lightly as you can. The least jar may send her over.”

It was a perilous position, but the boys kept their heads. Jerry remained at the wheel, his hands gripping the wooden rim as though his very grasp could hold the ponderous car from slipping into the chasm revealed by the lightning flashes.

Then Ned on his side, and Bob on his, cautiously opened the doors of the tonneau, and stepped down. As soon as they were out from under the shelter of the canopy they were drenched by the pelting rain that stung their faces.

“All right?” asked Jerry, from his seat.

“All right,” replied Ned.

“Get some stones, then, to block the rear wheels,” directed the tall lad.

“Aren’t you going to get out?” asked Bob.

“That’s what I am,” was the reply. “I wanted to wait until you fellows were out, though. Too much motion at once might start her over the edge.”

And, not until then did it occur to Bob and Ned what an act of heroism Jerry had performed in staying in his place until they were safe.

He might have leaped at the first intimation of danger, for he was in a position to do this more easily than either of his chums. But he had stuck to his post, doing what he could to hold the car in place, until the others were out of danger.

Bob and Ned said nothing at the time. But later they gave Jerry to understand that they appreciated his pluck and self-sacrifice, though the latter was not fully consummated. But it was characteristic of Jerry Hopkins.

“Whew! How it rains!” exclaimed Bob.

“Don’t talk--get some stones and block the wheels, Chunky!” directed Ned.

By this time Jerry, yanking back the emergency brake lever to the last possible notch, in order to keep the car from slipping, cautiously made his way to the side of his chums. Bob and Ned had managed to find, by the lightning flashes, two large rocks, which were wedged in front of each of the rear wheels.

“I guess that’ll hold her,” remarked Jerry, with a sigh of relief.

“How did it happen?” asked Bob.

“Why, I didn’t know about that sharp turn,” replied Jerry, “and I didn’t swing her around soon enough. She went right through that guard rail--it doesn’t amount to a toothpick, anyhow--and I got the brakes on her just in time. The lightning showed me where I was going. Otherwise we’d be down there at the bottom of the gulch, and----”

“Don’t talk about it!” begged Ned, with an involuntary shudder. “It’s too horrible!”

For a moment the three motor boys stood in the storm, their faces, each time it lightened, showing the fear they felt at their narrow escape.

Then Bob spoke.

“What are we going to do?” he asked. “We can’t stay here all night in this rain.”

“I don’t see what else we’re going to do,” Jerry answered. “We don’t want to desert the car, and we don’t want to go to sleep in her. She might come loose any moment. Guess we’ll have to camp out here, and make the best of it. ’Twon’t be the first time we’ve roughed it.”

“No, but I don’t see any necessity for it,” spoke Ned. “We have a strong rope in the tool box--a wire cable--and we can take a turn about the rear axle with that, and fasten it to a tree. Then the car can’t slide over, especially if we put plenty of blocking stones in front of the wheels. In fact we could brace the car up enough so that it would be safe to stay in her.”

“Hardly that,” said Jerry. “We’d have a nightmare, give a jump and start her going, I’m thinking. But maybe we can fasten it with the wire rope so that she will be safe until morning. Let’s try, anyhow. Then we can take the robes, and our raincoats, and make a sort of shelter in the woods. If we only had something to eat it wouldn’t be so bad. I wonder if we could find a place where we could get a bite?”

“I--I’ve got some lunch stowed away,” said Bob, half apologetically, as though he feared being censured. “I thought maybe we’d get hungry before supper, so I brought along some grub, and there’s a vacuum bottle of coffee with it. That ought to be hot.”

“Chunky, you’re a bird!” cried Ned. “Never again will I rig you about the eats. Lead me to ’em!”

“Fix the car first!” ordered Jerry. “We can’t take any chances with that.”

Working cautiously, so as not to jar the automobile, and start it over the brink, the boys, disregarding the drenching rain, got out the thin wire rope, which they carried in case they might need a tow, and fastened it to the rear axle and then to a big tree, pulling the cable taut.

“That ought to hold her,” said Jerry. “But we’ll pile some more stones in front of the wheels.”

Not until this was done, and the car made as secure as possible, did the boys get their raincoats and blankets from the space under the seats. By this time they were pretty well drenched. But the night was a warm one, and their condition was not as unpleasant as it might otherwise have been.

“Now for the eats!” cried Ned. “Pile ’em out, Bob.”

With some of the auto robes they made a rude sort of shelter among the trees, and one of the oil lamps, carried on the car for emergency, made the place a little light. The red tail lamp of the auto was sufficient to warn other travelers that the road was partly blocked.

“Though I don’t believe anyone will come up here in this storm,” remarked Jerry.

The hot coffee from the vacuum bottle, and the sandwiches which Bob had provided, made them all feel better.

“Though it’s no fun to stand all this drenching,” said Ned. “Now that the car is safe I vote we go up or down the road and see if we can’t find a hotel or some place to stay the rest of the night.”

“No,” said Jerry, “we’d better stay here, near the car. No telling what might happen.”

“Then what’s the matter with getting in the car?” asked Bob. “The canopy will shelter us.”

“No,” again said the tall lad, “it’s too risky. The chances are that the car won’t go over, but I’m not going to take the one chance that might be against us. It won’t be long until morning, and then we can see what needs to be done.”

But the wet night was miserable enough for all of them. Their shelter gave little protection against the downpour which kept up until nearly morning, and they were tired and cramped from the positions they had to occupy. But no one found much fault, though all were glad when a faint light in the east told of the coming of the dawn.

As soon as it was light enough to see, they inspected the position of the car. It was perilous enough, and the rising sun showed how near they had come to going over the brink.

“Can we pull her back?” asked Ned.

But they could not move the machine, which had settled in the mud.

“It’ll take a team of horses,” decided Jerry. “Now that we can see the car isn’t in any danger of going over, we can go for help.”

“One of us had better stay,” suggested Ned.

Making sure that the car would not slip, Bob and Jerry started down the road, intending to hire a team from the nearest farmer. Ned was left on guard.

The appearance of Bob and Jerry, from having camped out in the rain all night, was not very prepossessing, and the farmer’s wife, to whom they applied for horses, looked at them askance. But the sight of some bills in Jerry’s hand changed her rather glum face to a smiling one, and the farmer, returning from his early milking, readily agreed to take his team and haul the auto back to the road.

“And while we’re here, hadn’t we better eat?” suggested Bob, in a whisper to Jerry. “We can take Ned back some grub, too.”

Fortified by a substantial meal, the boys could look on their adventure with better spirits now. Ned was grateful for his portion, and with the help of the farmer and his horses the car was soon back on the highway. No damage had been done to it, and, after paying the man for his services, the boys were soon under way again.

A little later they entered the driveway of the home of Professor Snodgrass, having stopped at a hotel on the way for a wash and change of clothes, which garments they carried with them.

“The professor? No, he isn’t here,” replied the housekeeper, after she had greeted the boys, whom she knew well. “He hasn’t been here since he went to Cresville.”

“But where is he?” asked Jerry, quickly.

“He’s somewhere in the Maine mountains,” was the answer. “He’s after a two-tailed lizard, and he doesn’t know when he’ll be back.”