If
the slightest thing should go wrong in the steering-gear, as we read of
in other motor-cars each time we picked up a newspaper--but other cars
were not in charge of Mr. Jack Dane. I felt sure, somehow, that nothing
would ever go wrong with a steering-gear of whose destiny he was master.
Not a word did he speak to me, yet I felt that my silence of tongue and
stillness of body was approved of by him. He had said that we would be
"out of this before long," so I believed we would; but suddenly my eyes
told me that something worse than we had won through was in store for us
ahead.
CHAPTER XXI
All this time we'd been struggling up hill, but abruptly we came to the
top of the ascent, and had to go sliding down, along the same shelf,
which now seemed narrower than before. Looking ahead, it appeared to
have been bitten off round the edge here and there, just at the stiffest
zigs and zags of the nightmare road. And far down the mountain the way
went winding under our eyes, like the loops of a lasso; short, jerky
loops, as we came to each new turn, to which the length of our chassis
forced us to bow and curtsey on our slippery, sliding skates.
Pages:
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294