Connie and Westy ran pell-mell through the car and I heard the jangling of the chain there and I could hear Connie say, "Quick! Pull hard—harder!"
Then, after a few seconds the car began slowing down.
"Pull with all your might," I said to the fellows with me; "you fellows, too," I called out; "she's letting up; pull—hard!"
The car kept slowing down.
"Yank! Hard!" Connie called through to us, "and hold on. Brace your feet."
The car moved slower, slower; then stopped.
"Kick the ratchet-pin in—hurry up!" somebody said, and I pushed it into place with my foot.
"All right, let go."
The car was standing right square across the road, but anyway, that was better than being in the water. Any port in a storm, hey?
I guess our nerves were all pretty much unstrung, anyway, I know my hands were good and sore.