The man carefully felt of different parts of his body. Then he took off his goggles and looked over as much as he could see of himself.
“I don’t seem to be,” he said, finally, with a laugh. “It was like falling into a feather bed to land in that hay-pile the way I did. That’s all that saved me. I wonder how my machine stood the emergency brake.”
He examined his car carefully, and was apparently satisfied that no injury had been done by the sudden stopping of it.
“Where is he?” asked the farmer, suddenly appearing from behind the hay. “Is he dead?” And then he seemed to realize his error and joined in the laugh that followed.
“No, I’m not dead yet,” replied the owner of the green car. “Well,” he went on, “I must be going. Are you boys coming along? If you are, no more races.”
“We’ll have to go back to Cresville,” answered Bob. “We promised to return for supper.”
The man bade the boys good-by and soon the big, green dragon was throbbing down the road in a cloud of dust. The boys, finding they could not help the farmer in his trouble, got in their machine and, promising to send help from the first farmhouse they passed, they left the owner of the hay and were soon speeding toward Cresville.
“Isn’t this glorious!” exclaimed Jerry, as the auto sped along. “I wish we could take a long trip.”
“Why can’t we?” asked Ned.