“Well, you won’t be taking any more of a risk than that youngster did, doc,” interrupted a voice, and the man who had warned Jerry came up. He had several planks with him.
“I watched him shoot across that gap,” he went on, “and it made me shiver. I thought sure he’d be killed. I hollered at him to wait, as I had some planks, but I guess he didn’t hear me.”
“I heard somebody, but I couldn’t stop,” Jerry said.
“And do you mean to say you leaped across that missing span?” asked the doctor.
“That’s what he done, doc,” said the man. “It was as nervy a thing as I ever seen, and I never seen it outside of a circus.”
“It wasn’t anything,” said Jerry modestly. “I had to get across, and that was the only way. But we are wasting time. Come on, doctor.”
So, with a nervous dread in his heart, the physician got on the rear step, and clasped Jerry about the shoulders.
“Give us a start,” Jerry asked of the countryman, for the boy found it hard to pedal the machine up grade with the added weight of his passenger.
The shove gave the motor start enough so that Jerry could turn on the power, and then he rode off, bearing the much-needed physician. In a comparatively short time they reached the Johnson house.