“Ford? We didn’t know there was one,” said Tom.
“Sure there is. About half a mile below here. It’s where the river is shallow, and many’s the time I’ve driven across before this bridge was built. The water’s a leetle high now, but I guess your ark could make it. Will it go in water?”
“If it’s not too deep, and there’s good bottom,” was the chauffeur’s answer.
“Oh, it’s good bottom, but, as I say, it’s a trifle deep.”
“Try it, anyhow,” suggested Tom. “It’s our only chance. Go ahead.”
This was the sentiment of all, and the players getting into their seats again, which they had left to gaze at the river, the auto was backed up, and headed for the ford, the man with the buckboard going in advance to show the way.
As he had said, the water was rather high, and it seemed to swirl along dangerously fast. He would not venture in with his mule, but, after a look at it the chauffeur said he would try it.
“I’ll be all right,” he announced, “if the water doesn’t come up high enough to short-circuit the batteries or the magneto.”
“Let her go!” cried Tom.
Backing up, to get a good start down the slope that led to the ford, the chauffeur turned on full speed. Into the river went the big auto, with its heavy load. The water splashed up in a spray as the front wheels, with the big tires, struck the limpid surface. A moment later the entire machine was in the water, submerged to the hubs.