“Well, let’s do it then, as quickly as possible,” said Mr. Layton, decisively. “The snow is getting deeper every minute, and we can’t afford to lose any more time. I thought you men knew the road too well to make a mistake like that.”
One of the drivers muttered something about “snow” and “can’t see nothin’ ten feet ahead,” and they climbed into their seats, while the others scattered to their places inside.
The driver of the leading car stepped on the electric starter button, but instead of the engine starting there was a shock, a sharp snap of breaking steel, and the starter motor whirred idly around with no more effect on the engine than one of the thickly fallen snowflakes.
The driver uttered a fierce exclamation. “There goes that starter spring again!” he exclaimed. “Now I’ll have to crank the blamed engine every time I want to start for the rest of this trip.”
He fished around under the front seat, produced a starting crank, and tried to turn the engine over by hand. In his haste, however, he had forgotten to retard the spark, and as he lunged down on the crank with all his strength, the motor backfired, the crank spun around several times, and the driver staggered back, his right arm hanging limp and useless.
[CHAPTER VIII—A CLOSE SHAVE]
Mrs. Layton uttered a scream, and the others looked at each other a second with blank faces. Then they jumped out and surrounded the unfortunate driver, who was gazing at his injured arm in a dazed fashion. Mr. Layton made a quick examination, and pronounced that the wrist was badly sprained. Fortunately, they had a complete medical outfit in one of the cars, including splints, and Mr. Layton contrived to bind up the injured wrist after a fashion, and then suspended the arm in a sling.
“But who’s going to drive the car?” asked the uninjured chauffeur, after this operation had been completed. “If none of you people knows how to drive, we’re in a pretty bad fix.”
“I’ll drive,” volunteered Bob. “You lead the way, and I guess I’ll manage to keep near you.”
“Are you sure you can do it, Bob?” questioned his father, anxiously. He had great faith in his son’s ability, and liked to have the lad take a certain amount of responsibility.