The road was fairly good right there, and Cora increased the speed until the car was going well.
Joel gasped and held on tight to the sides of the car. He had never traveled on anything faster than the little narrow-gauge railroad train that wheezed along at about ten or fifteen miles an hour. Now he was moving at the rate of forty or more.
After about two miles had been covered, Cora eased up and prepared to turn the car.
“How about it, Joel?” she asked mischievously, as she straightened out for home.
“It’s—it’s scrumptious, miss!” gasped Joel, “but ain’t ye feared ye’ll wreck yer car? Doesn’t seem’s if anything on four wheels c’u’d stand it.”
“Don’t worry about that,” replied Cora, and again Joel was treated to a burst of speed that set his heart thumping violently against his ribs.
It was with a sigh of relief that he climbed down from the car when it had come to a full stop.
“Sufferin’ cats!” exclaimed the old backwoodsman, as he faced his grinning audience, “I’ve faced b’ars an’ painters an’ catamounts, but I wuz never so plumb skeered in all my life!
“An’ to think uv a gal havin’ the spunk to drive like that!” he muttered to himself, as he made his way back to the barn. “She suttinly is some gal!”
“A little rich for Joel’s blood, I guess,” laughed Jack, as the gay party started off.