"Oh, nonsense, don't be a croaker, Dave! It won't rain in a year of
Mondays!" cried the senator's son, and then he put on speed once more,
and headed the touring-car for Sugar Hill.

The place mentioned was an elevation about a mile back from the lake. It
was almost a mountain in size, and the road leading to the top was
anything but a good one, being filled with ruts and loose stones. But
the engine of the car was powerful, and it was not until they were
almost to the top of the hill that Roger had to throw the gears into
second speed.

"Some climb and no mistake!" murmured Dave. "Can you make it, Roger?"

"Top or bust!" was the laconic answer.

Scarcely had the senator's son spoken when there came a loud report from
the front end of the car.

"A blowout!" gasped Phil.

"The front tire on this side has gone to pieces!" announced Bert. "Will
you have to stop?"

"Can't--not here!" announced Roger, grimly. And then he shut his teeth
hard and turned on more gasoline. Up and up they bumped, the burst tire
cutting deeply into the rough stones. But the power was there, and in
less than thirty seconds more the car came to a standstill on the level
top of Sugar Hill.

"Phew; that was a narrow shave!" remarked Bert, as the boys got out of
the car. "Roger, what would you have done if you couldn't go ahead?
There wasn't room to turn."

"I knew there wasn't room, Bert; that's the reason I made the car go
up," was the reply. "It was a bad hole to get caught in."

"I guess it cost you the shoe," remarked Dave, as he examined the
article. "Pretty well cut up."

"It was an old one, anyway, Dave. Now we'll have the pleasure of putting
on one of those new ones," and he smiled grimly, for he did not like
that task any better than does any other autoist.

"Oh, we'll all help," cried Phil. "It won't be so bad, if we all take
turns at pumping in the air."

"Wish I had one of those new kind of machine pumps on the car," answered
Roger. "But I haven't got it, so it's got to be bone labor, boys." And
then the damaged wheel was jacked up and a new shoe with its inner tube
was put on and inflated. All told, the job took the boys a full
half-hour, for the new shoe was a tight fit and did not want to go over
the rim at first.

"Hello, what do you know about this!" cried Phil, as they were finishing
the blowing up of the tube. "It's raining!"

"Yes, and look how black it is getting over yonder!" exclaimed Bert. "We
are in for a