“A mud road, you mean,” Penny corrected, peering ahead at the narrow, twisting highway. “It really rained here last night.”
The car had no chains. Not without misgiving, Mr. Parker drove off the pavement onto the slippery road. The car wallowed about and at times skidded dangerously.
“Once we reach the State park we’ll have gravel roads,” Penny said, studying a map.
“If we get there,” Mr. Parker corrected.
Barely had he spoken than the car went out of control. It took a long skid, turned crosswise in the road, and then the rear wheels slipped into a deep ditch. Opening the car door, Penny saw that the car was bogged down to the hub caps.
Mr. Parker tried without success to pull out of the ditch. Alighting, he inspected the rear wheels which had spun deeper and deeper into the mud.
“Not a chance to get out of here without help,” he said crossly. “I’ll have to find someone to give us a hand.”
Farther down the road stood a weatherbeaten farmhouse. Penny offered to go there to summon help, but her father insisted upon doing it himself. He presently returned with a farmer and a small tractor. After considerable difficulty the car was pulled out of the ditch.
“How much do I owe you?” Mr. Parker asked the man.
“Ten dollars.”