"Yes, and you can have dinner with us, too, before you go," was the reply. "Now don't say 'No', for father and mother expect it, and so do I." "All right, then, we'll stay," answered Roger, after a look at Dave and Phil. "We can start for home about eight o'clock, or half-past." The boys walked back to the hotel shed and got out the touring-car. Bert took the vacant seat beside Roger, and away the party bowled over the highway that ran around Lake Sargola. "I wish we had a car," said Bert. "But dad won't get one, because, last summer, a friend of his was killed in an automobile accident." "Well, that's enough to take the nerve out of any one," was Dave's answer. The car rolled on, and Bert asked about the doings of the boys at Oak Hall, and told of life at the technical training school which he attended. They had almost circled the lake when Roger slowed down. "What do you say to a trip to the top of Sugar Hill?" he asked. "Sugar Hill?" cried Bert. "Can you go up that hill with this car?" "Sure!" was Roger's prompt reply. "It's pretty steep, I know, but I'm sure I can make it." "It's a fine view from there, Roger. But the hill is pretty steep towards the end." "Oh, I'm not afraid of it." The senator's son turned to the others. "What do you say?" "I'll go anywhere," declared Phil. "Same here," laughed Dave. "But don't be too long about it, Roger." "Why?" "I think that storm is working its way back again." "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."