Ned tried to slip the jack under the axle, but the foot of the implement went so far down into the mud that no purchase, or lifting power, could be obtained.
“Get me a flat stone, or several of them, or a fence rail, or something to put under the jack,” ordered Ned, straightening up with a groan of anguish. “I’ve got to have something to set it on. Get busy, Chunky! Look around with your lantern for a flat rock.”
“Say, do you think I’m going to do it all?” demanded the stout lad in injured tones.
“You haven’t done anything yet,” retorted Ned sharply. The storm and the accident was getting on the nerves of all of them, and tempers were sorely tried.
“Here, Bob, I’ll help,” broke in Jerry good-naturedly, with the intention of pouring oil on troubled waters. “I’ll get the other lantern and we’ll give an imitation of two Diogeneses looking for a flat stone.”
As the tall lad made his way forward, splashing through the mud and water to detach the other headlight, Professor Snodgrass, who had safely packed away his specimen boxes, uttered a cry.
“Look, boys!” he called, “there’s a light coming this way. Maybe it’s another auto, and they’ll help you.”
They all looked. Down the road, dimly seen through the mist of the rain, was a bobbing light.
“If that’s an auto it’s either got the blind staggers, or else it’s steering itself,” remarked Ned.