“Of course,” agreed Helen. “It isn’t much of a road—I was looking at it this afternoon—but at least it’s clear of bushes. But do you really think we can make it?”
“I hope so. There aren’t any trees in the way. If there had been any in the spot where we hit,” she added, “I don’t suppose we should be alive to tell the tale.”
Helen shuddered.
“You do have the most marvelous escapes, Linda!” she remarked. Then she looked grave. “But all on account of me. What a peaceful summer you would have had, if you hadn’t happened to see my accident.”
“My summer has been fine!” Linda assured her. “And I should have been flying somewhere, anyhow—and probably would have met with other adventures. I don’t like things to be slow, you know.”
The girls finished their supper, and as soon as they had cleared up and put out the fire, they started upon their dangerous task of getting the “Ladybug” out of the underbrush. For a time it seemed as if it were going to be impossible, but by digging up some bushes, and removing some rocks in its path, they finally got her started. The difficulty then was to stop her, but Linda carefully applied her brakes, and finally they managed to reach the road.
It had grown dark by the time they had finished, but the rain had ceased and they felt well pleased with their success. Hot and tired and damp with perspiration and the recent rain, Linda sat down on the wet grass for a rest.
“Let’s take a swim, Helen,” she suggested. “I see a stream down in the valley. Then we ought to be able to get some sleep, so long as it’s stopped raining. We can spread our slickers on the ground.”
“Sleep!” repeated the other girl in dismay. “Aren’t we going to fly?”
Linda shook her head.