Though he and Paul had come partly back into the car they were still ready to leap in case Dick's plan miscarried. But it seemed likely to succeed.
There was a sudden twist to the steering wheel, and the Last Word swerved dangerously. Paul and Innis clutched the sides. Then they saw that the auto was on the short slope that led down to the water. Dick had made the diversion in safety—so far. What would happen when he struck the stream, with its uneven bed, was a matter of conjecture.
But the deep sand of the slope leading down to the water was already having its effect. No better brake could have been devised than that clinging material.
"She's slacking up!" cried Paul.
"We're all right!" added Innis.
Into the water splashed the big touring car. A shower of spray shot up on either side. The machine was slackening speed. Dick was beginning to relax his grip on the steering wheel, and his chums breathed easier.
Then, with a jolt that threw them all forward in a heap, the auto seemed to strike some obstruction in the bed of the creek.
It careened to one side, so that they feared it was about to topple over. Then it righted itself, surged forward, and came to a groaning stop in the middle of the water, stuck fast in the cloying mud that formed the bed of the creek.
"Safe!" exclaimed Paul.