“Now, if you’ll show me the motor boat, Mose,” said Fred. “I’ll look it over and make sure everything is all right.”
“Yassuh,” said the darkey, “it’s a goodish piece from here, but Ah reckons us kin walk it in fifteen minutes.”
“Guess I can stand it if you can,” said Fred, and they started out.
Meantime, Lee and Bobby had reached the dusty highroad and were going along at a spanking pace. Their horse had been in pasture several days with nothing to do, and seemed to enjoy a good run with nothing but the light buggy behind him.
“If we can keep this up, it won’t take us long,” observed Bobby.
“Yes, but we can’t,” said Lee. “There is some pretty sandy going before we hit town, and that will slow old Jerry down.”
They soon reached a bad stretch of sandy road, which was so narrow that there was no more than room enough for one carriage. When two met, each had to pull partly off the road in order to pass, and this happened once or twice, the drivers of the other outfits recognizing Lee and greeting him pleasantly.
After passing the last rig, they had gone perhaps half a mile, old Jerry stopping at frequent intervals to rest, when they saw another buggy approaching them. As it drew nearer, Lee gave an exclamation.
“What’s the matter?” inquired Bobby. “Anything wrong?”
Lee’s face was flushed as he pointed to the oncoming buggy.