Master Tom did not prove a good prophet on this point, although he had foreseen the breaking down of the automobile before they started from the Red Mill. They went back to the car and started from the old house in a much more cheerful mood, neither of the girls supposing that they were likely to run across the Gypsy men again.
"We must hustle to make Uncle Ike's to-night, sure enough," Tom said, as the car rolled out into the muddy highway.
"Is it very far yet?" asked Ruth.
"More than sixty miles, and a bad road, and it is now half-past five," replied the boy.
"Oh, my! I hope we'll not be delayed after dark," said his sister.
"I never knew you to be such a 'fraid-cat before, Helen," laughed Ruth.
"Everything's gone wrong to-day. And those awful men scared me. Let's stop at the hotel at Boisé Landing, if it grows dark. Uncle Ike's is a long way beyond the town, Tom."
"Sure—if you say so," agreed her brother, cheerfully. "I can send word up to the folks that we are all right. Of course, they will be expecting us this evening. I telegraphed them this morning that we were on the way."
The car plowed on through the mud. These roads were in very bad shape, and even while it had been dry, the traveling was bad enough. Now the wheels skidded and slipped, and the engine panted as though it were tired.
It missed explosions frequently, too, and Tom sat under the wheel with a very serious face indeed. It was not far to a small settlement called, on the map, Severn Corners. Tom knew he could get gas there, if he needed it, but he was not sure that there was a repair shop at the place. If the old machine played a trick on them again——