“Say, Bob, wouldn’t this be a great place for the machine to break down?” came in a sepulchral voice from the rear.
“You’d surely lose the polish on your shoes, Charlie,” laughed Tom.
“Wonder what Vic ’ud say to this?”
“Oh, he’d let out an awful howl.”
“And no one could blame him, either,” growled the disgusted Blake.
On and on went the car, through another village and then another, and, finally, the city of Racine was seen asserting itself strongly against the gloom of nature.
The boys found on entering the town that most of the stores were closed; but the brightly-lighted streets and the sight of electric cars and an occasional pedestrian was a welcome change after their siege of riding in the lonely country.
“Too bad we can’t stay here for a while, fellows!” exclaimed Bob, “but it’s the long road and blackness again for us.”
“Dave and Vic are probably sound asleep by this time,” grumbled Charlie, “never dreaming about the lovely time we’re having on their account.” Then he added, softly, to himself: “Guess I’ll be having nightmares about it, though, for weeks to come.”
“Speed her up, Bob,” said Tom, eagerly. “A chap can see where he’s going out here.”