“That’s so,” agreed Fenn. “But come on. If we wait much longer the crowd will get around it and, maybe, loosen the wire that holds it.”
The four chums hurried to the scene of the accident. They found that the weight of the big car had stretched the wires so that the machine hung farther than ever over the edge of the cliff.
“It’s going to be a hard job to save that machine,” declared Ned. “How are we going to do it?”
“Let me think a minute,” spoke Bart, who was usually fertile in devising ways and means of doing things.
“What ye goin’ to do?” demanded Constable Darby who, having found his post as guard at the house an empty honor, had assumed charge of the machine. “What you boys up to now? You’d better move away from here.”
“We’re going to rescue Mr. Hayward’s auto for him,” declared Fenn with more assurance than he felt. “He wants it hauled back,” he added, which was true enough.
“Wa’al, ef he wants it, that’s a different thing,” replied the constable, who evidently recognized that Fenn had some rights in the matter, since the injured persons had been carried to the lad’s house.
“I guess we’ve got ropes enough,” spoke Bart. “The next thing is to get some pulleys and find something strong enough to stand the strain. I guess that big oak tree will do. Who knows where we can get some pulleys?”
“There are some at our house,” said Fenn. “The painters left them there when they finished the job last week. I can get them.”
“Good!” cried Bart. “You get ’em, and we’ll get the ropes in shape.”