The car made a turn skirting a deep precipice. Accustomed to Fran’s sadistic pleasure in scaring his passengers, Judy repressed her own impulse to cry out. Besides, there had been enough terrified “Ohs” during the last two hours.
“Will I be thankful when we get to Leadville,” Miss Clark said resignedly. “I understand we can get an excellent meal there—a restaurant famous in the old silver-mining days.”
“I’m hungry too. How much longer will it be before we get there?”
Fran turned around squarely, an old habit of his. “In about an hour or so.”
“Don’t you dare turn around like that!” came the stern rebuke. “Look, another car’s approaching.”
“Don’t worry, Miss Simms, that car’s not moving, waiting for us to pass, I guess.”
They approached the waiting car. It rested precariously on the edge of the road, part of it in the deep gully. A young man stood beside it, an anxious smile on his unshaven face.
“What’s the trouble?” Fran asked, sticking his head out of the window.
“I hit one of those rocks.”
Fran didn’t wait to hear any more. He got out, followed by all his passengers.