"So they might, but I guess Paul doesn't believe in taking chances. Four will be sure to pull us out of the ruck, and two mightn't."
"To say nothing of the fact that the farmer saw a chance to hold you up for a double price."
"Oh, that's all right," said the young millionaire. "I don't mind paying for actual work, and it will be a blessing to get started again."
As usual, when a crowd gathers about anything that is going on, there was plenty of advice offered. One man insisted that Dick had the pulleys arranged wrong, and another held that the auto should have been pulled out backwards instead of by the front.
"But I don't want to go backwards," said Dick. "I'm going on ahead. I want to get on the other side of the bridge. I had trouble enough trying to cross the stream. I might as well finish up, now that I'm at it."
"You'll only get stuck deeper in the mud!" declared this pessimist.
"I guess the horses can get us out," said Dick. "I'll take a chance, anyhow."
The tackle was in shape, and all that remained was to hitch the four steeds to the free end of the rope, and start them. Dick rowed out to his car, and sat at the steering wheel. Two men had been hired to lay planks under the wheels to prevent them from sinking in the soft shore of the stream as soon as they should emerge from the water. Paul and Innis were to have general charge of matters on shore, one to see that the horses pulled when urged ahead, and the other to call a halt in case anything showed signs of going wrong.
"All ready?" asked Innis from his position near the heads of the horses, which the owner was to drive.