"Hurt?" he sang out, anxiously.
"This wrist is a little lame, and my knee is skinned," was the answer. "Did they get away and throw you out?"
"No, Dick managed to stop them by turning into a soft field. It is lucky you didn't break your neck."
"I might have if I hadn't tumbled into the bushes, Tom. Gracious, how the buckboard did jounce up and down!"
Limping a little on account of the bruised knee, Sam followed his brother down the road. They found Dick had led the team from the field. He, too, was glad to learn Sam was not seriously injured.
"What's to do now?" asked Tom. "I don't like to trust that team much."
"Oh, they're tamed down now," asserted Dick. "I am sure they won't want to run away again."
"We want to get to Carwell as soon as possible, but we don't want to do it by breaking our necks," went on the fun-loving Rover.
Once more the three youths got on the buckboard and Dick started the team. The fire was now all out of them, and they went along at their regular gait. It had grown so dark the boys had to light a lantern they had brought along.
"Listen!" said Sam presently, and held up his hand. From out of the darkness they heard the steady chug-chug of an automobile. It seemed to be coming toward them.