The lights of the car showed a bend just ahead of them. It was a road the boys had never traveled before and Jerry was taking no chances.
Suddenly a vivid flash of lightning, followed by a sharp clap of thunder, startled the boys. At the same moment every electric light in the car went out.
Whether the sudden darkness, following the vivid flash, confused Jerry, or whether, involuntarily, he twisted the steering wheel, was not made certain. But, an instant later the big car gave a lurch, and in the light of the next flash the boys saw, with horror, that they were headed for the edge of the road, where a frail wooden rail alone separated the highway from a sheer descent. [The car poised for an instant, the front wheels on the very brink], while, all about the thunder crashed, the lightning blinded them, and the rain came down in torrents.
[CHAPTER XIII]
ANOTHER DISAPPOINTMENT
Jerry had instinctively jammed on both the foot and the hand emergency brake as he felt the big car slipping. It came as natural to do this as it does to one to put out his hands when he is falling. Jerry had been in too many tight places not to know what to do when confronted with sudden danger.
And the brake bands had not ceased their shrill squeaking, which could be heard above the roar of the storm, before Ned and Bob yelled in chorus:
“Hold her, Jerry!”
“I am holding her,” was the grim response. “And don’t you fellows move too suddenly, or we’ll go over. Get out as easily as you can while the getting’s good!”