Toot! Toot! Toot!
Again the horn honked out a warning to the Mexican, but he did not seem to hear.
The big red touring car was gathering speed, in spite of the fact that it was not under power, and it bore down ever closer to the ox cart.
“Cut out the muffler and let him hear the explosions,” suggested Jerry.
Bob did so, and the sounds that resulted were not unlike a Gatling gun battery going into action. This time the native heard.
Glancing back, he gave a frightened whoop and jabbed the sharp goad into the ox. The animal turned squarely across the road, thus shutting off what small chance there might have been of the auto gliding past on either side.
“We’re going to hit him sure!” yelled Ned. “I say Professor, you’d better hold on to your specimens. There’s going to be all sorts of things doing in about two shakes of a rattlesnake’s tail!”
“What’s that about a rattlesnake?” asked the old man, who, looking up from a box of bugs and stones on his lap, seemed aware, for the first time, of the danger that threatened.
“Hi there! Get out of the way! Move the cart! Shake a leg! Pull to one side and let us have half the road!” yelled Jerry as a last desperate resort, standing up and shouting at the bewildered and frightened Mexican.