“Yes.” A moment later, however, Alex too sprang into the car, as he did so tearing off his handkerchief and stuffing it into one of the water-cans. “I couldn’t have held on another minute,” he choked. “I believe the handkerchief was burning.”
Jack prepared to climb out to take Alex’s place.
“No! Lay still!” interposed Alex. “The car will run by itself here. There’s a down grade.”
Jack dropped back thankfully. “Isn’t it awful,” he gasped. “My eyes are paining as though they would burst.”
On rushed the car down the roaring, crackling tunnel of flames, groaning and screeching like a mad thing. Tongues of fire began to lick over the sides of the car at the cringing boys within.
Faster the car went. Presently it began to rock. “She’ll be off the track!” cried Jack at last.
“Lie farther over!” directed Alex above the roar, himself moving in the opposite direction. The rearrangement steadied the car slightly, but still it rocked and plunged on the long unused track so that at times the boys’ hearts leaped into their throats.
The heat was now terrific. The floor and sides of the car began to blister and crack.
“We can’t stand it much longer! We’ll be cooked!” coughed Jack.
“Empty one of the cans over your head,” Alex shouted. “Keep up a few minutes longer, and we will be over the worst. It is the leaves and brush that are making the heat, and we’ll soon be where they have burned out.