Then Bart made a depressing discovery--the hind gearing was locked with
a chain running from wheel to wheel.
This was unfortunate. Turning a heap of slate, he came suddenly and with
delight upon an open tool box.
It was a regular construction case, and full of shovels, crowbars,
pickaxes, sledges and drills. Bart selected a crowbar and his efforts to
twist and snap the chain resulted in final success. With a thrill of
satisfaction he sprang upon the car. The handles moved easily and
responsively to the touch.
A grumbling roar caused him to survey the sky, which had been dull and
lowering since noon.
"Storm coming," he murmured--"now for action!"
Bart started up the car. It ran as smooth as a bicycle. He was anxious
to get away from the face of the hill, not knowing how near the enemy
might be.
They were nearer than he fancied, for a sudden shout rang out, then a
chorus of them.
A piece of rock, hurled down from the crest of the hill, struck his
wrist, nearly numbing it. Glancing up, Bart saw the two Tollivers and
Lem Wacker getting ready to descend.
There was a sharp incline and a short curve not ten feet ahead.
Pages:
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146