"Eh?" The old man was tired and rambling. Too bad; now it was all on his shoulders. But when he got at him later he'd remind him that he had, in a way, saved his life, that he didn't expect anything for himself, but that he wanted to do something for the community—
"There's a light!" screamed Mrs. Chesbro.
It seemed to be a filling station; there were the pumps and there was a two-storey frame building behind them. One of those crossroads groceries, Chesbro thought as they swept past.
"But aren't you going to stop, Arthur?" she asked.
"Nonsense, dear," he grunted. "We started for Hebertown and that's where we're going."
How little we know our land, thought the burgess again. For there, ahead in the twin beams, was a sheet of muddy water. Their speed was such that they plowed into it with a tremendous gush of spray. "We'll make it," Chesbro cried. Water rose chillingly inside the car to their calves as they plowed heavily forward and then lurched to a stop.
Chesbro said between his teeth: "Like last time." He ground the starter three times; the fourth time he tramped on the button nothing happened. The battery was shorted out.
"Here we are," Mrs. Chesbro said inanely.
Chesbro tramped on the dead button again and again.
"It's rising, isn't it?" said the burgess. "Let's get out and wade before we have to swim."