As soon as supper had been despatched the boys got into the auto, leaving old Mr. Joyce to guard the aeroplane, and, after making inquiries about the road, started off for Tottenville. The road was a straight one, and there was a bright, full moon, so they did not anticipate any difficulty in arriving at their destination. Before they started Frank ’phoned to the factory, and an assortment of wheels was left for them in charge of the watchman, as the factory would be closed for the night long before they could reach there.
Frank sent the auto bounding over the road at a fast clip. Their lights shone brightly in front of them, showing them the track for some distance ahead.
“Look there!” suddenly shouted Lathrop, as they swept down a steep hill.
Directly in the road in front of them the headlights revealed a big, lumbering hay-wagon, loaded high with its sweet-smelling burden.
“Hey, get out of the road!” shouted Frank at the top of his voice.
But the man on the wagon seemed to be asleep. Anyway he paid no attention to the boys’ loud hail, but kept serenely on in the middle of the road. His big lumbering wagon quite prohibited all chance of passing him.
“Stop the machine,” cried Harry.
Frank shoved on the emergency brake. But instead of the auto coming to a stop there was a sharp snap as if something had broken.
“It’s busted,” cried Frank. “I can’t stop the car.”
“Now we are in for it,” exclaimed Harry.