"I hope not, but we'll soon see." And then, as a straight stretch of fairly good road appeared before them, Sam turned on the power and the touring car sped onward faster than ever.
Inside of half an hour they reached Dennville, a sleepy little town, located in the midst of a number of hills. All the houses were dark and the stores closed up, and not a soul was in sight. They ran into the tiny public square and there found several signboards.
"Here we are!" cried Sam. "Corbytown four miles this way," and he pointed with his hand.
"We'll look at the other signboards first to see whether there is another road," answered his brother. But there was only the one, and so Sam turned the touring car into this, and they sped forward once more, but now at a reduced rate of speed, for the road was decidedly hilly and far from good.
"What possessed Waltham to take such a road as this," remarked Tom, after they had passed a particularly bad spot.
"Don't ask me!" was the reply. "It's no wonder he had a breakdown if he took this road on high speed."
They were going up a long hill. At the top a large and well-kept farm spread out, and, beyond, the hill dropped away on a road that was worse than ever.
"Hello! there's a light!" cried Tom, as they approached the house belonging to the farm.
"I see it," answered his brother; and in a few seconds more they ran up to the horse-block and brought the touring car to a standstill, Sam, at the same time, sounding the horn.
But the summons was unnecessary, for their approach had been eagerly looked for by Grace, and hardly had the machine come to a standstill when she flew out of the farmhouse to meet them.