Part 31 (1/2)

Suddenly, as Tom reached a bend, he saw a man coming towards them. He was an Italian, and carried a small red flag in one hand.

”Back! You-a git-a back!” cried the man, waving his red flag at them.

”Blas'! Blas'! You git-a back!”

The grade was downward and the man had appeared so suddenly that before Tom could bring the first automobile to a standstill he had gotten at least a hundred feet beyond the Italian, while the second car, run by d.i.c.k, was by the man's side.

”What's the trouble here?” demanded d.i.c.k.

”You git-a back! You git-a back!” exclaimed the Italian, frantically.

”Blas' go off! You git-a back!”

”Hi, Tom, come back here!” yelled d.i.c.k. ”This fellow says there is a blast going off.”

Tom was already trying to heed the warning. He had stopped so suddenly, however, that he had stalled his engine and now he had to take time in which to use the electric starter. In the meanwhile, the Italian workman ran still farther back, to warn Chester Waltham and anybody else who might be coming along the road.

”Oh, Tom! can you turn around?” questioned his wife anxiously.

”Maybe you had better run the car backward,” suggested Sam. He had noted the narrowness of the roadway and knew it would be no easy matter to turn around in such limited s.p.a.ce. Besides that, there was a deep gully on one side, so that they would run the risk of overturning.

”Yes, I'll back if d.i.c.k will only give me room,” muttered Tom, as he pressed the lever of the self-starter. Then after the power was once more generated he threw in the reverse gear and allowed the car to back up.

”That's the way to do it, Tom,” yelled d.i.c.k. ”Come on, I'll get out of the way,” and he, too, began to back until he was close on to the Waltham runabout.

”Look out! Don't b.u.mp into me!” yelled Chester Waltham, who for the moment seemed to be completely bewildered by what was taking place.

”What's the matter anyway?” he demanded of the Italian.

”Oh, Chester, there must be some danger!” shrieked his sister. ”Say!

they are both backing up. Maybe you had better back up too.”

”All right, if that's what they want,” answered the young millionaire, and then in his hurry tried to reverse so quickly that he, too, stalled his engine.

”Back up! Back up!” called out d.i.c.k. ”We've got to get out of here!

There is some sort of blasting going on ahead!”

”Oh, d.i.c.k, be careful!” cried Mrs. Stanhope, and sprang up in the tonneau of the car in alarm, quickly followed by Mrs. Laning.

”You will run into Mr. Waltham, sure!” wailed the latter.

”Don't smash into me! Don't smash into me!” yelled the young millionaire in sudden terror. ”If you b.u.mp into me you'll send me into the ditch!”

By this time d.i.c.k's car was less than three feet away from the runabout, while Tom's machine was still some distance farther up the road.

Boom! There was a distant explosion, not very loud; and following this came a clatter as of stones falling on the rocks. None of the stones, however, fell anywhere near the three machines.

”Oh!” cried Grace.

”Is that all there is to it?” queried Nellie, anxiously.