“And now to cross the river!” said Amy.
“Out of the frying pan into the fire,” laughed Nell. “We just succeed in getting out of the river, and we immediately make plans for getting into it again.”
“Does seem rather foolish, doesn’t it?” agreed Jessie. “However, we can only hope that the river bottom isn’t mud all the way.”
“It is not,” Miss Alling assured her, as the boys unfastened the rope that bound the two cars together. “As the stream becomes more shallow the river bed becomes more pebbly. I really think we won’t have any trouble getting across.”
The knots in the rope that had bound the two cars together had been drawn taut by the strain upon them and the unfastening of the knots required time and patience. Miss Alling insisted that the rope should not be cut.
“We never can tell when we may need the rope again,” she reminded them. “Better spend a little extra time just now than lose a good deal later on.”
At last the final knot was untied, the rope stowed away in the tonneau awaiting the next emergency, and they were ready for the start. In the meantime Darry had gone back and posted a warning on the road leading to the broken bridge.
“Where do we go from here, boys—or rather, Aunt Em?” queried Burd, as the boys climbed back into the roadster. “We let you take the lead before, and I suppose we shall have to again. Though I don’t know whether we should,” he added judicially, “after the place you led us to.”
“Better here than into the river,” retorted Miss Alling, and stepped on the starter.
It was necessary for them to proceed at a snail’s pace, for, though there were traces of an old wagon road following the banks of the stream at this point, the woodland was dense with vines and undergrowth, and the road was fairly overgrown with rank grass and bushes.
It seemed an endless time to the impatient girls before Miss Alling stopped the car and, pointing out toward the stream, declared that she was confident they would be able to cross it at that point.
They got out to have a closer look at the water, and Darry, having stopped his car a few feet behind them, joined them with Fol and Burd.
“All set for the big act?” asked Darry, and Miss Alling nodded thoughtfully. They had reached the water, and at the point where the stream encroached upon the shore it was only a few inches deep. Also, the bottom was, as Miss Alling had prophesied, hard and dotted with small boulders and rocks.
“Pretty rough going, but a good sight better than mud, at that,” was Fol’s verdict. “I vote we get started.”
“But how do you know the stream is fordable at this point?” asked Darry.
Miss Alling had started back toward the cars, evidently intent upon following Fol’s suggestion without delay, but at Darry’s question she turned and looked at him squarely.
“My dear boy, I don’t know,” she told him. “The world is full of gambles. This is one of them.”
“I don’t want to gamble,” wailed Amy, as they followed Aunt Emma. “I only want to live. Jessie, I give you my word I feel ten perfectly good years of my life slipping away.”
“I have heard that people actually do die of fright sometimes,” said Jessie, cheerfully, and Amy shot her a reproachful glance.
“Mean old thing,” she said. “I don’t believe you are frightened in the least, Jessie Norwood.”
“Why should I be?” returned Jessie, with a laugh. “It isn’t as though we hadn’t been close to drowning before. Barry’s yacht, the Marigold, for instance.”
“Well, just because we nearly drowned once isn’t to say that I ought to enjoy it the second time,” grumbled Amy. The next moment she gripped Jessie’s arm. Miss Alling had turned the car and had headed it straight toward the river.
“Here goes,” sang out Nell. “Hold your hats, everybody!”
The water swished about the wheels as the car pushed forward, and Amy’s grip upon her chum tightened.
“In just about a minute we are due to stumble into a hole,&r............