“Yes, and I’ll walk too,” put in Spouter.
“Oh, I guess this old bus will carry the lot. Only you’ll have to hang on the best you can,” answered Bill Jandle.
The boys piled in, some sitting on the laps of others and the farmhand took a seat in an open doorway with his feet on the mudguard. Then, with a series of loud chuggings and a series of accompanying shivers, the flivver started away from the Jandle farm, Mrs. Jandle and Tommy waving a farewell.
It was a ride not easily forgotten. The way was unusually rough and more than once it looked as if every spring on the machine might be broken. The boys were pitched from one side of the car to the other and the farmhand had all he could do to keep from slipping off into the roadway.
“Ta—ta—talk about riding in a Pullman!” spluttered Andy. “Isn’t this the smoothest ever?”
“Look out, Andy, or you’ll bite off your tongue,” warned Fred.
“Now hold on, all of you!” shouted Bill Jandle, and then [they went down] a long hill [over the rough rocks] in a fashion that all but upset the flivver and caused some of the occupants to wonder whether they would come out of the adventure alive.
[THEY WENT DOWN OVER THE ROUGH ROCKS.]
At the foot of the hill they crossed the Swift River on a rickety bridge, every plank of which slapped and thumped as they passed over it. Then, however, they struck a much better road, and a short time later came in sight of the farm.