"Oh, we'll get there all right, Mr. Stubbs!" Chester raised his voice to make himself heard.
"We're likely to land out here in the ditch," was Stubbs' reply. "The way
Hal runs this car, there is no telling what may happen."
"Not frightened, are you, Mr. Stubbs?" asked Chester, grinning.
"Frightened?" echoed Stubbs. "Why should I be frightened? We can't be going more than a couple of hundred miles an hour. No, I'm not frightened. I'm what you call scared. Wow!"
This last ejaculation was drawn from the little man as he was pitched over into Chester's lap by an extra violent lurch of the car. He threw out a hand, seeking a hold, and his open palm came in contact with Chester's face. Chester thrust Stubbs away from him.
"I say, Stubbs!" said the lad half angrily. "If you want to jump out of here, all right; but don't try and push me out ahead of you. Keep your hands out of my face."
"I wasn't trying to push you out," gasped Stubbs. "I was hunting something to hang on to."
"Well, my face is no strap," declared Chester.
The automobile slowed down suddenly and a moment later came to a stop at a fork in the road.
"I'll have to have a look at this chart," Hal called over his shoulder to his companions, as he thrust a hand into a pocket. "Forget which way we head from here."