To the left there was a solid stone wall.  To dash into that would mean almost as horrible an accident as if she collided with the train.  To the right there was a field, but it was fenced in, and between it and the road was a little miry, brook.

In some places the brook widened almost into a pond.  The bottom was treacherous, and to steer into it meant to sink down deeply into the mud.  To run into the fence might mean that one of the rails would become entangled in the mechanism of the motor, tearing it all to pieces.  Or one of the long pieces of wood might even impale the occupants of the car.

Cora’s eyes swept down the length of the barrier with a flash.

There was just what she wanted!  A gap in the fence!

She could go through that in safety.  But suppose the machine was brought to too sudden a stop in the mud?  They would all be thrown out and perhaps injured.  But it was the only thing to do.

With a firm grasp of the wheel Cora sent the auto from the road.

Elizabeth screamed as she felt the swaying of the car.  She had to hold her sister from being tossed but, for Isabel was incapable of taking care of herself.

Straight for the field rushed the car, the engineer of the train now tooting his whistle as if in gladness at the narrow escape.

Splash!

The auto fairly dived into the brook, and gradually slackened speed.  Right toward a clump of willow trees it surged, throwing a spray of water in advance.  Then it became stationary in the middle of a spot where the brook widened into a pond.

Cora was dimly conscious of a figure on the opposite bank of the stream.  A figure of a young man, with a fishing-pole in his hands.  She saw a spray of water, cast up by the auto, drench him.  She even heard him cry out, but at that moment she gave him not a thought.

Everything centered on her narrow escape, the condition of her two chums, and, last, but not least, whether her new auto had been damaged.

Cora leaned over the side and looked at the water flowing past the mud guards.

“Safe!” she exclaimed.  “I—­I thought we were doomed, girls.  Didn’t you?”

“Doomed?” echoed Elizabeth.  “I never want to go through that experience again.”

“Me either,” added Cora fervently.  “Has Belle fainted?”

“I’m afraid so.”

Cora leaned over, scooped some water up in her hand, and dashed it into the white face of the girl.  Isabel opened her eyes.

“Are we—­are we—­” she gasped.

“We’re all right, you little goose,” said Cora with a laugh, though her voice trembled and her hands shook.  “I guess it wasn’t nearly as dangerous as it looked.”

“It was bad enough,” spoke Elizabeth.

“Anyhow, the auto stopped,” went on Cora.  “Don’t you see where we are?  In the middle of Campbell’s Pond.  And we won’t have to swim out, either.  It’s not very deep.  But, Bess, you look like a sheet, and Belle, you seem like—­”