"You'll get wet, Dave."
"Not a great deal, and I d rather do that than have an accident," was the reply.
Roger had thrown the car into low gear, so that the power was really acting as a sort of brake. Slowly they slid along, over the wet stones and dirt. Then came a sharp turn, and the senator's son slowed down still more. The touring-car skidded a distance of several feet, and all held their breath, wondering if they would go down into a small gully, or waterway, that lined the road on one side. But in another moment that danger was past, and all breathed more freely.
But almost immediately a fresh peril confronted them. At another turn Dave sent up a warning cry:
"Brake up, Roger, there's a tree or a big limb ahead!"
Through the rain-covered shield the senator's son saw the obstruction. He set both the hand-brake and the foot-brake, and all heard the wheels and the chains scrape over the stones and dirt. But the car could not be stopped, and two seconds later crashed into the tree limb, a branch of which came up, striking the wind-shield and cracking it.
"Look out for that glass!" yelled Bert, in fresh alarm. "Don't get any in your eyes, Roger!"
