The tackle was in shape, and all that remained was to hitch the four steeds to the free end of the rope, and start them. Dick rowed out to his car, and sat at the steering wheel. Two men had been hired to lay planks under the wheels to prevent them from sinking in the soft shore of the stream as soon as they should emerge from the water. Paul and Innis were to have general charge of matters on shore, one to see that the horses pulled when urged ahead, and the other to call a halt in case anything showed signs of going wrong. "All ready?" asked Innis from his position near the heads of the horses, which the owner was to drive. "All right here," answered Paul, who was on the shore. "Let her go!" cried Dick, taking a firmer grip of the steering wheel. There was a creaking of the ropes and pulleys. The cables tautened; the blocks were lifted up from the ground by the strain. The rope around the axle of the car straightened out. There was a snapping, tugging sound, and then the car began to move slowly. "She's coming!" cried Paul. "Keep moving!" urged Dick. He turned the steering gear about to free the front wheels from the clinging mass of mud. The car moved faster. Then, as the horses settled to their collars, the big touring machine was slowly pulled from the water. Then the front wheels struck the planks laid down to receive them, splitting one of the boards. Up the slope went the _Last Word_ amid the cheers of the assembled farmers. Up the slope and out on the road, where Dick called for a halt, and jammed on the brakes. "Whew! I'm glad that's over!" exclaimed Paul. "The same here!" added Innis. "Is she all right, Dick?" "I don't know. I'm just going to have a look," and the young man bounded out of his car, and cast a hasty glance over the running gear. That seemed to be intact, save for the broken brake. The engine was next looked to, Dick starting it, with the gears unmeshed. It ran as soon as the electrical switch was turned, and the hum and throb told that it was in perfect condition. "So far--so good!" exclaimed Dick. "Now, after we have that defective brake looked to, I guess we can get under way again." "There's a garage about a mile further along," said Mr. Kennedy, who had supplied the horses. "I guess they can fix you up." "I'll try for it," said Dick. Then he paid the men who had helped him, not forgetting the bridge tender who had gotten the boat for them, without which Dick and his chums would have had wet feet. "Where are you bound for?" asked a man in the crowd. He seemed to be a stranger, since none of the others talked to him. He addressed Dick. "Oh, we're just on a tour," replied our hero, with a sharp glance at the chap. "Looks as though you could go all the way to 'Frisco in that car," the man went on, as he stepped to the door and peered into the interior of the _Last Word_.