“We want to keep a good lookout whenever we strike a rise,” the pilot warned them. “Tell me if you happen to see anything that looks suspicious, for it may be a hard job to get turned around, you know.”
Each one of the others readily promised, though very likely the task would fall principally to Giraffe, as he had the best eyes for this purpose.
They may have covered as much as three miles after passing the fork when they saw a hill ahead of them. Bumpus looked and groaned. He knew what that meant.
“More push coming, fellows!” commented Giraffe. “As for me, I won’t be sorry to get out and stretch my legs a bit, because they’re feeling cramped.”
“Hit it up for all the old tub can carry, Thad,” begged Bumpus. “The further she carries us before giving up the ghost the less hard work we’ll have to do. Go it, you shirker, do your level best! If you could only drag us all the way up I’d beg your pardon for ever having even thought evil of you. Here we go!”
They started up the rise bravely enough, but speedily the engine began to make signs as of distress.
“Get ready to jump, everybody!” called out Giraffe.
“Yes, that’s easy for you to say,” complained poor Bumpus, “but think of me, won’t you? How can I spring like a frog when she starts to go backward down the hill again? I’ll do my best to roll out; only somebody grab hold, and don’t let me get started rolling like a barrel after the car!”
“Oh! no danger,” Thad told them. “Just as soon as she stops I’ll jam on the brake and let her back off the road.”
“We’re two-thirds of the way to the top anyhow!” cried Giraffe, triumphantly.