"We didn't mean to," said Dick. "One of the brakes went out of commission, and I couldn't hold the car with the other two, though they're supposed to be able to. Must be something wrong with 'em. I'm going to have 'em looked at when we get out of here."
"If we ever do," suggested Innis. "We sure are stuck fast."
"That's awful sticky mud," volunteered the flagman. "Didn't Bill Hockey, at the top of the hill, warn you about this bridge?"
"Yes, but it was too late, then, to stop," answered Dick.
"Well, I'm here to let only light loads over the bridge," the man went on. "It'll hold a horse and carriage, but not much else. Your auto would sure have gone through it."
"Then I'm glad we didn't chance it," remarked Paul.
"The county is getting bids on having a new bridge built, but when it'll be done nobody seems to know," said the man.
"I don't s'pose you mind, as long as you have a job here flagging," suggested Innis, with a smile.
"Well, 'tain't so much fun in wet weather. I'm thinkin' of havin' a shelter made. But you sure are stuck fast. You'd better go over and see if you can hire some horses. There's a farm just around the turn of the road. Porter Hanson owns it, and he's got a couple of teams."