He was right. A small, hip-roofed building, set in an apex between diverging roads, with a flag-pole in front of it, was plainly the schoolhouse. The Ark swung to the left and Tom’s fingers sought the throttle lever. The Ark’s purr became a hoarse roar. Faster and faster the car plunged through the darkness. It was cold now with the damp chill of an autumn night, and Willard, his jacket buttoned tight to his throat and the collar turned up, shivered as they flew down a long hill, the air rushing past them like the blast from a giant fan. Tom slowed up at the foot of the hill and half arose in his seat. “Help me off with this coat,” he said as he worked one arm out. “What for?” asked Willard, obeying while he questioned. “It’s in the way. It’s too warm. That’s it. Steady! Now put it on.” “But――――” began Willard. “Hurry up!” commanded Tom impatiently. “You’re losing time!” Willard, protesting, struggled into it, the car leaped forward again and Willard staggered back into his seat. “You’ll catch cold, Tom,” he said aggrievedly. “You’d no business doing that.” “Shut up. I’m all right. Running this thing keeps you warm enough. How far did he say that barn was from the schoolhouse?” “Four miles.” They found it soon, a big white object that loomed ahead of them through the blackness. “Right,” reminded Willard. Tom nodded and the car swung around the corner on two wheels and raced at a hill. “About nineteen more, I guess,” said Tom, as they topped the summit and dropped down the other side. “What are those lights ahead?” “Maybe a wagon. Better go easy.” “There isn’t time,” answered Tom, peering ahead. The lights came flashing up to them, there was a jolt, and The Ark swept past a crossing-tender’s shanty and over the railroad tracks. “Gee, it’s lucky there wasn’t a train coming!” exclaimed Willard thankfully. “We’d seen the head-light,” Tom answered. “This road’s getting better, isn’t it? Either that or I’m getting used to being shaken up. How much gas do you think we had when we left?” “About six or seven gallons. The tank was two-thirds full.” “We won’t use more than four, I suppose. How about oil?” “I didn’t look. The crank-case was filled Wednesday, though.” “I guess there’s enough. We’ll soon know it if there isn’t.” “What will happen?” “She’ll heat up and smell like the dickens first.” “Then what?” “Stop, I guess. But we’ll be there by that time. She’s running like a charm now, isn’t she?” “I guess she never went as fast before,” replied Willard. “And I don’t think I want to be in her when she does it again!” “Do you suppose we can find a place to sleep when we get there? And a place to put the car in?” “Sure! There’s a big hotel there. And I guess they’ve got a stable, or maybe, a garage. I wish we were there now. I’ll bet I’ll go to sleep to-night without being sung to!”