“The roads are good enough,” replied the farmer, as he looked at the Bobbsey twins. “But they’re quite lonesome. However, you can go faster in that machine than I can in mine, and it won’t take you long. Good luck to you! You’ve got quite a load of boys and girls there,” he commented.
“Yes, quite a load, thank you,” answered Mr. Bobbsey.
“We had five kittens, only we had to take them back,” piped up Flossie.
“Did you? Well, I’ve got a batch of ’em out at my place I’ll let you have,” chuckled the farmer. “Just keep right along as I told you an’ you’ll come out all right. G’lang!” he called to his horse, and with a nod he drove by, while Mr. Bobbsey, with a word of thanks, let in the clutch and away they rode once more.
“It’s too bad!” murmured Mrs. Bobbsey.
“Are we lost?” asked Freddie, half hoping they were.
“Of course not!” laughed his father. “We’ll soon be in Midvale, and it isn’t far from there to Hitchville. We’ll be all right. But I don’t call this a very good road,” he went on, as he had to slow up over a rough and rutty place.
The farmer’s idea of good roads did not seem to be the same as Mr. Bobbsey’s, and the farther they went the worse the way became, until in one place it was necessary to drop into second speed to get through a stretch of deep sand.
It was now getting late in the afternoon, and they had not yet come to the road which, the farmer said, led to Midvale. Then, to make matters worse, all at once there was a sharp hiss of escaping air.
“Puncture!” cried Bert.