“Wow! Say, I’m in up to my knees!” he complained.
“And I’m gradually sinking down,” added Ned. “It looks as if we were in a bog, or a quicksand. Fellows, I do believe the auto is going down!”
“Hey! What’s that? The auto sinking?” cried the voice of Professor Snodgrass. For the time being the boys had forgotten about him, and he seemed to have either fallen into a slumber, or to have been thinking so deeply there in the darkness that he was not aware of the accident. “Don’t tell me we’re sinking!” he implored.
“Well, if we’re not, it’s a good imitation of it,” declared Jerry, as he looked at the wheels of the auto, now deep in the soft mud.
“Oh, what will become of my valuable specimens?” cried the scientist. “I must save them!” and he leaped from the auto, holding in his arms half a dozen small boxes. He landed in a puddle of water, which splashed all over the motor boys, and their sudden exclamations of dismay further added to the alarm of the professor.
“I didn’t know we had run into a river!” he cried. “Why didn’t you warn me? I was thinking of a plan to capture the singing fish, and I didn’t pay any attention to where we were going.”
“Neither did the auto, apparently,” remarked Ned. “But it’s not quite as bad as a river, Professor. We’re comparatively safe. You’d better get back under shelter, and we’ll fix the tire,” for the little scientist was speedily being drenched, as he stood there in the storm without a protecting coat.
“Thanks. I believe I will. I wish I could help you boys. Wait until I put my boxes where they won’t get wet, and I’ll do what I can.” The professor reëntered the car.
“No, we’ll manage,” declared Jerry. “Get busy with the jack, if you’re going to, Ned.”
The merchant’s son went around to the wheel on which the tire had burst, and stooped down in the mud and water, while Bob held the lantern. The wind blew more powerfully, fairly stinging the rain into the faces of our heroes. They were deep in the muck, and even their raincoats were but small protection.