“Got an extinguisher?” asked Jerry of the man.
He shook his head, being either too much out of breath or too excited over his narrow escape to talk.
“I’ll get ours!” shouted Ned, as he raced back toward their machine, climbing up the bank, down which the boys had rushed to the rescue.
Jerry and Bob forced up the bent and jammed covers of the engine, and disclosed the fact that the fire, so far, was only in the carburetor, which had become flooded with gasoline when the car turned over.
In a few seconds Ned was back with the extinguisher, and when a generous supply of the chemicals it contained had been squirted on the blazing gasoline, the fire went out with a smudge of smoke.
“That was a narrow escape for me, boys,” said the man, and his voice shook a little. “I thought sure I was done for when I felt the car leaving the road. I tried to bring it back, but the turn was too much for me, and over I went.”
“This is a dangerous turn,” commented Jerry. “There ought to be a warning sign put up here.”
“We called to you,” Bob told him.
“I didn’t hear you,” the man said. “Boys, I want to thank you!”
He seemed overcome for a moment. Then he went on.