CHAPTER XII
A STROKE OF LIGHTNING
"Look out!"
"We are going into that tree!"
"Jam on both brakes, Dave, just as hard as you can!" cried Dunston Porter.
Even before his uncle had spoken Dave had pressed down both feet hard, thus putting on the foot-brake and releasing the gear-clutch. Now his hand shot over to the emergency brake, and this came up with all the power at his command. But the grade was downward, and the road slippery from the rain, and instead of stopping, the touring-car went on, sliding through the mud and over the rocks until it was practically on top of the tree. Then came a jar that threw everybody forward. The steering-wheel saved Dave, but his uncle's elbow struck the windshield, cracking it in several places.
"Look, we've run into a tree!"
"Did the lightning hit the machine?"
"Say, Roger, take yourself off my feet; will you?"
This last cry came from Phil, who was huddled up in a corner of the tonneau.