Even though all the lights were out, it did not take the two Rovers long to locate the disabled runabout, which rested among some stones on the side of the highway. As Grace had stated, the wind-shield was a mass of smashed glass, and the front axle had broken close to the left wheel.
"They can certainly be thankful they didn't break their necks," was Tom's comment, as he walked around the wreck.
"Waltham doesn't seem to be anywhere around here," returned Sam. "Wonder where he went to?"
Both looked up and down the highway, and presently saw a figure approaching from down the road. It proved to be Chester Waltham. He was capless and walked with a limp.
"Hello! Who are you?" challenged the young millionaire, and then as he drew closer he added: "Oh, the Rovers, eh? Did Grace get you on the 'phone?"
"She did," answered Sam, and then added sharply: "You've made a nice mess of it here, haven't you?"
"Say, I don't want any such talk from you," blustered the rich young man. Evidently he was in far from a good humor.
"I'll say what I please, Waltham, without asking your permission," continued the youngest Rover. "You had no right to bring Miss Laning away out here against her wishes. It was a contemptible thing to do."
"You talk as if you were my master," retorted Chester Waltham. "This isn't any of your affair and you keep out of it."
"We are perfectly willing to keep out of it if you say so, Waltham," broke in Tom. "We came down here merely to see if we could help you in any way. But I see your front axle is broken, and you will have to get the garage people to help you out with that."