"Jove, you boys are marvels!" exclaimed the doctor. "Is there anything you can't do with this craft, or auto, or whatever it is, of yours?"
"Lots of things, I guess," said Tom, "but we haven't found many of them yet."
At uninterrupted speed the journey was resumed. At times so swift was the pace that the Wondership seemed to be half flying. Thanks to her shock absorbers, but little motion was felt, although in places the roadway had been washed out by the torrential downpour and was very rough.
"Whereabouts are we?" shouted Tom, as they rushed along.
"Near the Coon Creek Bridge," flung back Jack over his shoulder. "We ought to sight it at any moment now."
He peered through the blackness ahead. The searchlights failed to show any bridge. But the young driver saw an abandoned cottage by the roadside which had formerly been used as a toolhouse. Just beyond it he knew the bridge should loom up with its white railings.
But there was not a sign of it.
Not till it was too late to stop did Jack realize what had happened. The bridge had been washed away by the rising waters of the creek and he was tearing at top speed for the steep banks.
It was a moment for lightning thinking. Right ahead loomed a black pit which he knew marked the water course.
Suddenly it flashed into Jack's mind that in former times, before the bridge had been built, there had been a ford at the point.