“Have you any suggestions to make, fellows?” he asked, “I confess I’m up a tree just at present. What do you say, Bob? Can you think of anything?”
“Why, I was thinking,” answered Bob, flattered by this direct appeal to his vaunted experience, “that if we could dig out a path in front of the machine up onto the grass we might get it out that way.”
“Say! you’ve hit the nail on the head this time!” exclaimed Bert, enthusiastically. “That’s just what we’ll do. Get that spade out of the tonneau, will you Frank, and we’ll get to work.”
Frank immediately complied, and in an incredibly short space of time the boys had a path dug in front of the auto down to hard gravel, and were ready for another attempt to extricate their beloved car.
Bert climbed into his seat with a do-or-die expression on his handsome young face, and repeated his former tactics, but this time with greater success. The “Red Scout” surged forward with a roar, like some imprisoned wild creature suddenly given its liberty. Bert took no chances this time, but plugged steadily onward until he reached high, firm ground. Here he stopped the panting machine, and waited for the cheering boys to catch up.
They soon reached the faithful car, and quickly jumped into their places. Before starting again Bert turned around and said, “Fellows, I think we owe Bob a vote of thanks. All who agree please say ‘Aye’.”
There was a hearty chorus of “Ayes,” and Bob flushed with pleasure at this tribute from his comrades. He thought, and with reason, that he had demonstrated his knowledge of automobiles to good advantage, as well as his ability to meet emergencies.
By this time it was getting near dusk, and Bert knew that Mr. Hollis would be worried over their continued absence. Accordingly, when he got on to the main road, he threw the gears into high speed, and soon they were bowling along at a rapid, but safe, pace toward their camp.
It would be hard to imagine a happier set of boys in the world than those who sat in the big red automobile in the silence of good fellowship and listened to the contented purring of the “Red Scout’s” powerful motor.