“We did,” replied Nestor, and he told of the landslide. “But,” he went on, “I reckon these boys know how to git us out of it. I’ll stake my last dollar on these boys,” and he smiled in a way that made the down-hearted lads feel better.
Broswick’s spade did good service, and soon the machine was cleared of the dirt sufficiently to allow of its being righted. Then Jerry made a more careful examination. As he went around on the right side of it he uttered a despairing cry.
“What’s the matter?” asked Ned.
“The battery box is gone!” exclaimed Jerry.
“It was carried away in the landslide, and we haven’t another cell. We’re stranded, sure enough.”
He pointed to where, on the right step, a small, square box had rested. In this box were the dry batteries that supplied the spark.
Without the vital spark the auto could not advance a foot, and, as Jerry had said, the last of the spare batteries had been used and no new ones procured. The adventurers were certainly in dire straits.
“Maybe we can find the batteries somewhere in the dirt,” suggested Nestor.
Acting on this idea, the boys and men made a careful search among the rocks and gravel that covered the road. They found the battery box, but it was splintered to pieces and not a single cell could be located. They went over every inch of the debris with no better result.
“Well, I reckon we’re booked for a stay at this summer resort,” said Nestor, with forced cheerfulness.