But the sky became continually more leaden and overcast, and the drivers put on more speed in an effort to reach their destination before the impending storm should start. But they had gone only a short distance further when a few white flakes came swirling silently down from the leaden sky. Scattered at first, they rapidly increased in numbers until the air was filled with swirling sheets of white. The snow packed over the windshields and powdered the occupants of the two cars, and the drivers were forced to stop and put up the side curtains. The snow hissed through the branches of the trees and whispered to the dead leaves, making the only sound in a world that was rapidly changing from autumn brown to winter white.
With the side curtains adjusted as snugly as possible, the party resumed its journey. The fine, dry snow searched out every chink and opening between the curtains, penetrating in some mysterious manner where rain would have been kept out. In a surprisingly short time it had thrown a thick mantle over the road, and the cars began to feel the drag of ploughing through it. Another stop had to be made to put on tire chains, and by this time it was plainly to be seen that the drivers were becoming worried.
They had still about a third of the distance to cover, which included some of the worst grades in that part of the country. The road had changed from smooth macadam to a rough trail that required careful driving even under the most favorable conditions, and now the snow, drifting into holes and depressions, hid them from sight, the first intimation of their presence being a jolt and slam as the wheels dropped into some pit that the driver could easily have avoided otherwise. The passengers were shaken about unmercifully, and had to hold fast to anything handy to keep from being thrown against the roof.
“Good night!” exclaimed Herb, as one particularly heavy jolt threw him from the seat and left him floundering on the floor. “We won’t have any springs left on the cars by the time we reach the hotel, provided we ever do. I know people who have driven over this road, and they never mentioned its being so bad.”
“So have I,” said Bob, peering out through the side curtains. “My private opinion is, that we’ve gotten off the main road altogether. There was a fork a way back, and I thought then that the drivers turned in the wrong direction.”
“That hardly seems possible, Bob,” said Mr. Layton. “They are both experienced drivers, and are supposed to know this road like a book.”
“Well, likely enough I’m wrong,” said his son. “If they did take the wrong fork, though, I suppose they’ll soon find it out and turn back.”
But Bob was gifted with a keen sense of direction, and it was not long before the little party found that he had been correct in his surmise. The leading car halted, the other followed suit, and the drivers, beating their numbed hands together, held a conference in the road.
After a struggle with the fastenings of the side-curtain, Mr. Layton descended and joined them. The boys followed suit, leaving Mrs. Layton in sole possession of the two cars.
“We don’t rightly know how it happened, sir,” said one of the drivers, addressing Mr. Layton; “but somehow we’ve got off the right road in this confounded snow, and I guess there’s nothing for it but to turn and try to get back on it at the place where we branched off.”