"How?" I cried, frantically.
"Brake!" she yelled.
"Which foot?"
"Right foot. Right foot!"
However, it seems that my right foot was on the gas throttle at the time, which she had forgotten. I jammed my foot down hard, and the car seemed to lift out of the air. We went across the ditch, through a stake and rider fence, through a creek and up the other side of the bank, and brought up against a haystack with a terrific jolt.
Tish sat back and straightened her hat with a jerk.
"We'd better go back and do it again, Lizzie," she said, "because you missed one or two things."
"I did what you told me," I replied, sullenly.
"Did you?" said Tish. "I don't remember telling you to leap the creek. Of course, cross country motoring has its advantages. Only one really should have solid tires, because barbed wire fences might be awkward."
She then sat back and rested.
"Well?" I said.
"Well?" said Tish.
"What am I to do now?"
"Oh!" she said. "I thought you preferred doing it your own way. I don't object, if you
