A STROKE OF LIGHTNING
"Look out!"
"We are going into that tree!"
"Jam on both brakes, Dave, just as hard as you can!" cried Dunston
Porter.
Even before his uncle had spoken Dave had pressed down both feet hard,
thus putting on the foot-brake and releasing the gear-clutch. Now his
hand shot over to the emergency brake, and this came up with all the
power at his command. But the grade was downward, and the road slippery
from the rain, and instead of stopping, the touring-car went on, sliding
through the mud and over the rocks until it was practically on top of
the tree. Then came a jar that threw everybody forward. The
steering-wheel saved Dave, but his uncle's elbow struck the windshield,
cracking it in several places.
"Look, we've run into a tree!"
"Did the lightning hit the machine?"
"Say, Roger, take yourself off my feet; will you?"
This last cry came from Phil, who was huddled up in a corner of the
tonneau.
"It isn't me, it's the handbag, Phil," gasped out Roger, who hung partly
over the front seat of the touring-car.
"Anybody hurt?" questioned Dunston Porter quickly, as soon as the shock
had come to an end.
"I--I--think I am all right, Uncle Dunston," panted Laura. "But dear me!
wasn't it awful?"
"I thought I was going to fly right over Dave's head," wailed Jessie,
who had come up behind the youth with a great thump. "Oh, Dave, did I
hurt you?"
"Knocked a little of the wind out of me, Jessie; that's all," he
answered. "But I won't mind that if only you are not hurt."
"Say, that was some stop, believe me!" was Phil's grim comment, as he
managed to straighten up and look ahead. "Stuffed mackerel! what did we
try to do, Dave--climb a tree?"
"No. We tried to take a running jump and go over it," replied Roger,
with a faint attempt at humor.
"Sound the horn, Dave, as loudly as you can!" cried his uncle, quickly.
"We must warn the others." And thus admonished, Dave put his finger on
the button of the electric horn and held it down for some time. Looking
backward, those in the Wadsworth car soon saw the Basswood machine come
into sight and then slow down. The heavy clap of thunder was now
followed by another fierce downfall of rain, while the sky grew blacker
than ever. In the midst of this outburst the second touring-car came
slowly forward.
"Did the lightning strike you?" yelled Ben.
"No. But we had a close call of it," answered Mr. Porter. "It hit this
tree when we were less than one hundred and fifty feet away. Then the
tree came down as you see, and we ploughed right into it."
"Phew! That's some escape!" was Mr. Basswood's comment. "Anything
broken?"
"We don't know yet," answered Dave.
He alighted from the car, and his uncle did likewise. An examination
showed that one of the mudguards in front had been badly bent, and that
a headlight had snapped off, but beyond this, and the windshield, the
big touring-car seemed to be undamaged.
"I'm thankful it's no worse," remarked Dunston Porter.
"It's too bad the light had to go," returned Dave. "It will make running
at night rather dangerous until we can get it fixed."
"Oh, let us be thankful that no one was hurt!" cried Laura.
While Dave and his uncle had been examining the car, Mr. Basswood and
the others had been looking for some way around the tree, which covered
the roadway completely.
"I think I see a path through yonder trees," said Ben, pointing to his
left. "The ground seems to be pretty good there, and I think the opening
is plenty large enough for our cars."
Mr. Basswood moved forward in the direction his son indicated, and soon
called to Ben to start the car. He led the way on foot, and the machine
followed slowly. They passed in and out among several trees, and then
emerged once more on the highway, some distance beyond the obstruction.
"Hurrah! That's the way to do it!" cried Luke. "Now the others can back
up and follow us."
"So they can," answered Shadow. "But what about leaving that tree in the
roadway? It's mighty dangerous, and will be more so after dark."
"We can notify the authorities at Simpson's Corners," said Mr. Basswood.
"They can send somebody up here with a lantern."
He went back to tell the others of what had been accomplished, and soon
the Wadsworth car was backed out from between the branches of the tree
that shut off the highway.
"Well, I think the rain is letting up a little, anyway," announced
Roger, after the two touring-cars were once more under way. And he was
right. That last downfall seemed to clear the sky, and soon they saw the
clouds scattering.
Wet from end to end, and covered with mud, the two automobiles rolled
into the little settlement that went by the name of Simpson's Corners.
Here an old man named Simpson kept a general store to which, in the
rear, was attached a small livery stable and garage.
"You certainly must have had some trip over the hills in this storm,"
remarked Mr. Simpson, after the party had trooped into his place. "It's
about as heavy a rainfall as we have had in some time. Where are you
bound?"
"We wanted to get to Carpen Falls if we could," answered Dunston Porter.
"But perhaps we'll stay in Simpson's Corners, if there are any
accommodations."
"Ain't no hotel here," answered the storekeeper. "Used to be one some
years ago, but it didn't pay, so the feller that run it gave it up. But
Mrs. Whittle serves lunch to travelers if you are hungry."
"Me for Mrs. Whittle's!" whispered Phil.
"Good gracious, Phil! You seem to be hungry all the time on this trip,"
was Belle's good-natured comment.
"Maybe if we stay here an hour or two it will clear off," said Dave, who
was examining the sky closely. "I think the storm is shifting very
rapidly."
"I believe you're right, Dave," answered his uncle. "Yes, we'll stay
here and get dried out a little, if nothing else."
It was learned that Mrs. Whittle's place was just across the street, and
the lady said she would be very glad to furnish them with a hot supper,
and added that they could come in and dry themselves in her
sitting-room, where she started an open fire. The machines were placed
in Mr. Simpson's garage, and they purchased from the storekeeper some
gasoline and oil.
"Only a little after five o'clock," announced Roger. "I think by six
o'clock the storm will be over," he added.
While they were eating the supper provided by Mrs. Whittle, it stopped
raining, and a little later they saw the setting sun over the hills to
the westward.
"How many miles is it to Carpen Falls from here?" asked Luke.
"Fourteen by the automobile blue book," answered Dave.
"And what of the road?" questioned Ben.
"Mr. Simpson said it wasn't so bad but that it might be worse," answered
Dunston Porter, who had been interviewing the storekeeper and who had
told the man about the fallen tree, having learned that Mr. Simpson was
the head of the township committee.
"We don't want to get stuck, especially after it gets dark," said Ben.
"I wish we could stay here," sighed Mrs. Basswood. "But there don't seem
to be any accommodations."
"Oh, we'll get through; come ahead!" cried Dave. "If we don't reach
Carpen Falls to-night Mr. and Mrs. Wadsworth will worry about us."
Feeling in somewhat better spirits after having eaten, and after having
had an opportunity to dry themselves, the tourists brought out their
automobiles again, and soon Simpson's Corners was left behind. They had
a long hill to climb, and then the road wound in and out among some
particularly rough rocks. Then they came out along the edge of a cliff
with a vast panorama of woods and waters below them.
"Oh, isn't it perfectly lovely!" cried Belle.
"If I'm not mistaken, Mirror Lake lies off in that direction," said
Dunston Porter, pointing with his hand. "That sheet of water away off
yonder may be it."
Leaving the cliff, the road wound in and out of the forest for a
distance of several miles. Then they came to another little valley, in
which the highway was wet and, in some spots, suspiciously spongy.
"Now then, Dave, be careful," warned his uncle. "We don't want to get
stuck if we can possibly help it."
"I'll do my best, Uncle Dunston," was the answer.
With the wheels sucking and sousing in the mud, the Wadsworth machine
moved forward as rapidly as the conditions would permit. Close behind
was the Basswood car, and this time Ben took care not to let the engine
slow down too much. Once Dave was afraid that he was going to be stuck,
but in a few seconds the danger was past, and in two minutes more they
were out on the solid roadway once more.
"We are coming to some sort of a settlement!" cried Mr. Porter, after
several miles more had been covered. "See, there it is--right down at
the foot of this hill!"
"It must be Carpen Falls," announced Dave. "See, there are the Falls off
to the right!" and he pointed to where a fair-sized stream of water came
down between the trees and fell over the rocks. The Falls were fifteen
to twenty feet high, and made a beautiful sight.
Carpen Falls was a settlement of some importance, for the campers on the
lakes for miles around came there to do their trading. There were two
general stores, one containing the post-office, and also a blacksmith's
shop, livery stable and garage combined, and a small summer hotel.
"Oh, look! My father and mother!" cried Jessie, as the two machines
rolled up to the hotel.
To the surprise of all, Mr. and Mrs. Wadsworth stood on the piazza
watching their approach.
"Oh, we thought you would never get here!" cried Mrs. Wadsworth, in
relief. "We thought sure you had had some sort of accident on the road."
"And how is it you are here?" asked Dave, quickly.
"We came in this morning to do some trading at the store," answered Mr.
Wadsworth. "We were going back, when it began to storm so hard that we
decided to stay here until the rain let up, and until you arrived. It
certainly was a hard downpour!"
"We came pretty near having several accidents," answered Ben. And then
after the party had alighted, they told of the various happenings on the
journey.
"We can remain here all night if you want to," announced the jewelry
manufacturer. "But if you would rather go on to the bungalows I think we
can make it. There are two old stages here, and the drivers are
perfectly willing to make the trip."
"Now we have gotten so far, let us finish the trip," urged Laura. "I
think I would rather be at the bungalows than at this hotel," she added,
with a look around that hostelry--a place that was not particularly
inviting.
"But you'll want supper first; won't you?" questioned Mrs. Wadsworth.
"We had something to eat at Simpson's Corners," answered her daughter.
The stages that Mr. Wadsworth had mentioned were certainly old-fashioned
and dilapidated, but each was drawn by a pair of sturdy horses, and the
drivers said that they were perfectly safe and could make the journey to
Mirror Lake without trouble. So, having transferred the baggage from the
automobiles to these ancient vehicles, and having placed the
touring-cars in the garage, with orders to have the damaged car
repaired, our friends piled into the turnouts, and then, with various
calls to the animals and loud crackings of the whips, the two stages
started for Bear Camp.