“We are going to leave you both here and run the cars ourselves,” answered Dick, coldly.  “You are not fit to run them.”

“What’s the reason we ain’t?” mumbled Snall.  He could hardly speak.

“You’ve been drinking too much—­that’s the reason.”

“Humph!”

“We are going to run them machines an’ don’t you forgit it,” mumbled Hellig, and lurched forward.

“Don’t you ride with those intoxicated fellows,” said one of the hotel guests.

“We don’t intend to,” answered Dick.  “All ready, Tom?” he called out.

“Yes.”

“Then go ahead.  I’ll catch up to you.”

“Hi, you stop!” screamed Snall, as one of the automobiles began to move off down the road.  But Tom paid no attention to him.

Running swiftly, Dick reached the other car and hopped up to the chauffeur’s seat.  He had watched the driver operate the car and knew exactly what to do.  He soon had the engine running and then he threw in the speed clutch just as Hellig lurched up.

“You mustn’t ran away with that machine!” he roared.

“Keep away!” cried Sam, and leaning out of the car he gave the chauffeur a shove that sent him flat on his back in the dust of the road.  Then the car moved off.  As those in the automobile looked back they saw Hellig arise and shake his fist after them and Snall waved his arms wildly.

“We’ll hear from them again, I suppose,” said Sam.

“And they’ll hear from me,” answered Dick. “and the fellow who sent them out to run the cars for us will hear from me, too,” he added.

Tom was quite a distance ahead, but they soon caught up to his car.  By this time they were out of sight and hearing of the hotel, and going down the other side of the hill they had come up.

“If you wish, you can take the lead,” said the fun-loving Rover to his older brother.  “I don’t know a thing about these roads.”

“We’ll have to trust to luck and the signboards,” returned Dick.

“It will be all right if only you don’t get on some road that is impassible,” put in Fred.

“And get stuck thirty miles from nowhere,” added Songbird.

“You stick to dem roads vot haf stones on de got,” said Hans wisely.  “Ton’t you vos, drust der car to der tirt roads, no!”

“I shall follow Hans’ advice and stick to the good roads,” said Dick.  “I think the signboards will help us to get back to Philadelphia sooner or later.”

They sped down the hill and there found the road turned to the left and crossed a small stream.  Then they reached a corner with several signboards.

“Hurrah! that’s the way to Philly!” cried Sam.

“But it doesn’t say how many miles,” protested Grace.

“Never mind, we are bound to get there before dark, and that is all we care,” came from Nellie.

In the exhilaration of running the cars, Dick and Tom soon forgot about the trouble with the chauffeurs.  It was great sport, and as soon as Dick “got the hang of it,” as he said, he let the speed out, notch by notch.  His car ran a trifle more easily than did the other and before long he was a good half mile ahead of that run by Tom.  Those in the rear shouted for him to slow down, but the wind prevented him from hearing their calls.