MAROONED
"Can't you hold her, Dick?"
"Is there anything we can do?"
Paul and Innis shouted their questions at their chum, as he sat at the
wheel, guiding the ponderous car on its perilous way. Every stone that
could be avoided Dick steered away from, yet to make too much of a
swerve, he knew, would be disastrous.
"I'm afraid--it's getting--away from me," he called through his clenched
teeth. "The emergency brake is broken, and the others don't seem to
hold."
"Can't you put on the reverse?" asked Innis.
"It would only strip the gears. I guess we've got to chance it, boys!"
A man ran out at the foot of the hill, dancing up and down near the
approach to the bridge, and waving a red handkerchief.
"Are you going to try the bridge?" shouted Paul.
"I don't see how I can help it," replied Dick. "If I turn into the ditch
we'll sure upset."
"Maybe the bridge is stronger than they think," suggested Innis. "It
looks all right."
"That's the way with those country bridges," said Paul, bitterly. "They
never keep 'em in repair, and even a heavy truck may go through. It's a
shame!"
"Well, get ready for something, fellows!" said Dick, grimly. "Do you
want to jump?"
"I guess it's the only thing to do," declared Paul. "There's grass on
both sides of the road, and we can't be much hurt. You go first, Dick."
"No, you fellows try it. I've got to hold this wheel. The minute I let
go this auto is going to be like a wild horse, trying to climb the first
tree in sight. Jump, while I hold her steady. Then I'll take my chance."
"I'll steer for you," offered Innis, gallantly.
"No, let me!" insisted Paul.
"I tell you I'll stick to my machine until she smashes!" cried Dick,
sharply. "You fellows jump while you've got the chance. I'll try and
hold her until she gets to the bridge, and then I may be able to land in
the water. Go ahead."
"It's a shame!" cried Paul. "To see this dandy car go to smash."
"It can't be helped," replied Dick, sadly.
Paul opened the door on one side, and Innis on the other. They got in
good positions to make their leap. The man on the bridge was still
waving his signal of danger, uselessly it seemed, for the big car was
headed straight for the structure.
Dick gave a sharp glance ahead, and tightened his grip on the steering
wheel. Then he called out, hoarsely:
"Wait a minute, fellows! Hold on! Don't jump yet! Maybe there's a way
out yet!"
"How?" yelled Paul.
"See! There's a ford at one side of the bridge!" and Dick nodded his
head toward a place where the road over the structure branched off,
dividing; one side going down a slope into the stream of water, and up
again on the other side, to join the highway past the bridge. This path
was used by those who wished to water their horses, or swell their dried
wagon-wheels. It was also a ford in case the bridge was out of
commission for heavy loads, as at present.
"What's your game?" cried Innis.
"I'm going to try to send the auto down that ford-road," replied the
young millionaire. "It's soft and sandy. If I can make the change the
soft dirt may clog the wheels enough, and slacken our speed, so that we
can get over the creek safely. It's worth trying--in fact, it's the only
thing we can do. Hold on!"
Nearer and nearer to the bridge thundered the big car. The man with the
red handkerchief had leaped out of the way now, fearing the collapse of
the structure. But Dick did not intend to trust himself to the weakened
beams and king-braces.
Narrowly watching the road where it forked into the ford, or crossing,
Dick swerved the steering wheel ever so little at a time. A sudden
change in the course, he knew, would mean an overturned auto, and
possibly serious injury to all of them.
"That's it! That's the way to do it!" cried the man who had waved a
warning. "The water isn't very deep!"
"I hope not," murmured Dick. "Hold hard, boys!"
With tense face he watched the path before him. His hands were gripped
on the steering wheel so hard that it seemed as though he had no fingers
at all--as if they were all in one. The car thundered on. It vibrated
and trembled. The brakes that had been set--exclusive of the broken
one--were bringing forth a shrill protest from the axle bands.
"I--I guess you'll make it, Dick!" shouted Paul.
"It won't be from lack of trying, anyhow," agreed Innis.
Though he and Paul had come partly back into the car they were still
ready to leap in case Dick's plan miscarried. But it seemed likely to
succeed.
There was a sudden twist to the steering wheel, and the _Last Word_
swerved dangerously. Paul and Innis clutched the sides. Then they saw
that the auto was on the short slope that led down to the water. Dick
had made the diversion in safety--so far. What would happen when he
struck the stream, with its uneven bed, was a matter of conjecture.
But the deep sand of the slope leading down to the water was already
having its effect. No better brake could have been devised than that
clinging material.
"She's slacking up!" cried Paul.
"We're all right!" added Innis.
Into the water splashed the big touring car. A shower of spray shot up
on either side. The machine was slackening speed. Dick was beginning to
relax his grip on the steering wheel, and his chums breathed easier.
Then, with a jolt that threw them all forward in a heap, the auto seemed
to strike some obstruction in the bed of the creek.
It careened to one side, so that they feared it was about to topple
over. Then it righted itself, surged forward, and came to a groaning
stop in the middle of the water, stuck fast in the cloying mud that
formed the bed of the creek.
"Safe!" exclaimed Paul.
"Not a bone broken!" added Innis.
"But we're marooned!" murmured Dick, gloomily. "It will take ten horses
to pull us out of this mudhole. Hang the luck!"