"I hope it doesn't take their nerve," said Mr. Martin in a low voice to his colleague. "This may have a fearful effect." "Their nerves are good," declared the Princeton coach, "but I wish this was over. There's a good bit yet to go, and we'll travel faster at the end, for the hill is steeper there." Mr. Martin silently nodded, and then looked ahead. As he did so he could not refrain from a startled cry, for the hill took a sudden, steep dip, and it seemed impossible for any auto not under control to make it successfully. Before any one could do anything, had it been possible, the car was at the dangerous descent. Simpson drew in his breath sharply and grasped the steering wheel with firmer grip. "Whew!" whistled Paul Drew. "This is awful!" Dick said nothing, but he moved up closer to his father. Fear was clutching his heart, for he dreaded lest that all be killed. "This is about the end!" gasped the driver, as the steeper part of the hill came to an end. "The worst is over." The cadets could now look ahead, and see a level stretch. They were beginning to breathe easier. "Once I'm on that I'll be all right," went on the driver. He reached it a moment later, but the speed of the ponderous car was not checked much. It had too great momentum. Suddenly Dick gave a cry of fear, and pointed forward. They all saw it at the same time. Three hundred feet away was a narrow bridge and at that moment there appeared on it, turning in from a side road, a man driving a team of horses attached to a light carriage. And, as the cadets looked, the horses seemed possessed with sudden fright at the view of the oncoming auto. They reared, and the driver had all he could do to hold them in. Then one animal, worse than its mate, kicked over the traces and, coming down, got tangled in the harness. It fell heavily, right in the centre of the bridge, dragging down its mate. The man leaped out to go to the heads of the horses, and, as he saw the approaching auto he held up his hand and shouted a warning. "Stop! Stop!" he cried. "I can't!" yelled back Simpson. "Cut the harness! Push the horses off the bridge!" The man was working frantically. Simpson gave a last desperate yank on the brake lever. It was still out of commission, as he knew it would be. There seemed to be no escape from the impending crash which might mean death for a number of them. "I'm going to jump!" cried George Hall, worming his way to the rear of the truck, which was going almost as fast as when on the hill. "Don't you do it!" cried Dick, with all the energy he possessed. "Here, Simpson, turn into that hayfield! Make for the stack! Run the auto into it! That will stop us without damage!" "By gasolene! I believe you're right!" yelled the driver. "I'll do it. It's our only hope." "But the fence! The fence!" shouted Paul. "We'll smash into it!" for a rail fence shut off from the road the field at which Dick had pointed.