The thought was too much for Sandy. Choking hysterically, he went headfirst into the pond. But still Jerry’s mad marathon went on. “How do you stop this thing?” he shouted.
“Just turn off your ignition,” Charley joked.
The tears were rolling down Pete’s face. “I ain’t seen a birler like that boy in all my days. He’d be a sensation at the fall festival.”
“No use,” Jerry screamed desperately. “I’m going to bail out before it’s too late.” Holding his nose he ran off the end of the log into thin air. His legs were still driving like pistons as the water closed over him.
When the boys waded ashore, Jerry grinned sheepishly at the loggers. “I was doing great till my accelerator got stuck.”
Jonas patted him on the back. “You’re all right, Jerry. Best show I’ve seen all year.”
Walking up the hill, Jonas asked Russ, “How long will you be with us?”
“Oh, I guess we’ll be heading back to Red Lake tomorrow morning.”
“Better follow the river south as far as you can,” Jonas cautioned him. “It wouldn’t do to get caught in the deep woods if a fire gets started.”
By this time the sun had sunk below the trees, and the loggers were boarding the trucks for the ride back to camp. Russ and Quiz rode back with Jonas in the cab of the lead truck, while Sandy and Jerry piled in the one behind it.