Cora was frantically pulling on the brake lever. Her face was now white with fear, but even in the midst of this terror she felt a curious calmness. It was just as if she were looking at some picture of the scene. She thought she was miles and miles away. Her foot was pressed down so hard on the brake pedal that it felt as if her shoe would burst off. But the car slid along, nearer and nearer the track, along which the train was thundering--rushing to meet the auto-to annihilate it. "Stop! Stop!" screamed Isabel. "Stop!" She rose in her seat. "Sit down!" commanded Cora. "But stop!" pleaded Isabel. "We'll all be killed! Stop! Oh, Cora, stop!" "I'm trying to!" was the grim reply. "But--I can't the brake--the brake is jammed!" The last words came out jerkily, for Cora was pulling on the brake handle with all her force. Nearer and nearer sounded the approaching train. The auto was sliding down the hill with ever-increasing speed, but Cora never let go her hold of the steering wheel. Once more she tried to pull the brake lever. It would not come back another notch. The engineer of the train was blowing more frantic signals. He leaned from his cab window and motioned the auto back. He even seemed to be shouting to them. Cora braced both feet against the brake pedal. She took a firmer grasp of the wheel. The seams of her new gloves were starting from the strain. There was a desperate look on her face. "Oh, we'll be killed! We'll be killed!" screamed Isabel. "We can't get across in time!" She leaned over, and fell into her sister's arms, while Cora, with a keen glance to either side, stiffened in her seat. There was a bare chance of safety. CHAPTER III A SUDDEN ACQUAINTANCE Despite the tense moment of anxiety, the almost certainty that the auto would crash into the train, Cora's quick eye had seen something that she hoped would enable her to avert the accident. She knew that she could not stop the machine in time, by any means at her command. There was but one other thing to do. That was to steer to one side. 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.