By this time the chums had reached the broken fence that had proved so ineffectual a barrier to the cliff. They leaped over the shattered boards, accompanied by a number of men and boys.
“Gee! They’re goners!” exclaimed a boy named Sandy Merton, peering over the edge of the cliff. “It’s a hundred feet to the bottom!”
“I wonder what caught the auto?” said Bart. “Why didn’t it fall?”
“A wire caught it,” answered Fenn. “Look,” and he showed his chums where several heavy strands of wire, which had been strung on the fence to further brace it, had become entangled in the wheels of the auto as they crashed through. The wire was twisted around some posts and, with the broken boards from the barrier, had served to hold the car from going over the cliff. There it hung, by the rear wheels only, a most precarious position, for, every moment, it was in danger of toppling over.
“But where are the people?” asked Frank, as he peered over the edge of the cliff. “I can’t see them?”
“They’re all in pieces,” declared a gloomy looking man. “They’re broken to bits from the fall.”
“Nonsense!” exclaimed Bart. “Here, let me have a look!”
Lying flat on his face he peered over the edge of the precipice. Then he uttered a cry.
“I can see them!” he shouted. “They’ve landed on the ledge, not ten feet down. They’re under some bushes!”
“Get some ropes, quick!” cried Fenn. “We’ll haul ’em up before the auto falls on ’em!”