“Oh, you can’t tell by that,” came from Jerry. “The other road might be worse in this storm. Let’s get inside out of the wet and talk it over. We’ve got to do something.”
“Better jack up the car to take the strain off the other end of the axle,” suggested Bob.
As they crawled back into the car again Professor Snodgrass, who was snugly ensconced in the rear, reading a book by the light of the electric lamp, looked over the tops of his spectacles and absent-mindedly asked:
“Have we stopped?”
“Didn’t you feel it?” asked Jerry in some surprise.
“Why, I felt a jar, a while ago, but I paid no attention to it. I forgot it immediately. You see, I was so engrossed in this book on frogs’ legs that——”
“Does it tell new ways to cook ’em?” asked Bob, eagerly.
“Cook what?” the professor questioned.
“Frogs’ legs,” went on Bob. “They’re great fried in butter, but if there’s another way——”