“Why, are we going to have another?” inquired Anne nervously.
“Can’t tell for sure; but the sky looks pretty black ahead of us. Maybe it’s only rain though.”
She was right. Five miles farther on they struck rain which was falling steadily as if it meant to continue indefinitely. The road was crowned and slippery, which made careful driving advisable.
“Good thing your father can’t see us now,” remarked Katharine, as Patricia turned on her headlights.
“Yes, isn’t it? Going to be dark awfully early tonight. I don’t like night driving any better than he does.”
None of the girls liked the prospect of driving the rest of the way in rain and darkness. The little party became a very silent one as time went on, and even Katharine had almost nothing to say. Only the windshield wiper squeaked regularly as it swept back and forth across the wet glass. At Braggs Corners a couple of Boy Scouts stood in the middle of the road directing traffic from Main to Pearl Streets.
“What’s the matter?” inquired Patricia, sticking her head out of the window.
“Bridge washed out. Have to go around by Millersville,” replied the boy.
“At least twenty miles longer than this route,” groaned Patricia; “and not so well traveled. But, no help for it, I guess.”
The new route was indeed a lonesome one—a country road through flat, drenched farm lands, alternating with stretches of dripping woods.