"Be sure and turn in; and be careful not to upset us," continued the other.
"Yes," said the wounded fellow, quickly, "one accident is more'n enough for me, to-night. Hey, that's a good sweep around, youngster; I see as you know your business all right. Now, are we headin' straight for Fayette?"
"Yes, sir," replied Frank, readily.
"How far is that away from Columbia?"
"Twelve miles, about, sir, as the road goes," answered the new chauffeur.
"We strike the railroad at Fayette, don't we?" continued Bart, eagerly.
"There is one there, but not the same that comes to Columbia," and when he said that Frank was certain that one of the men chuckled; it must have been Bart, for the wounded fellow was in no mood for merriment, what with his groans and grunts that signified pain.
"That's right. And we're glad to hear it. Wouldn't give a cent for a chance to ride back to your slow old town. New York's good enough for us, hey, Jim."
"It sure is, if I ever live to get there. Wish there happened to be a doctor on this here road somewhere," said the second traveler.
"What for?" asked his comrade, quickly. "I'd get him to take a look at this arm, that's what."