For her part the girl in the runabout swerved her car from side to side in a struggle to avoid a collision, which appeared inevitable.

“Stop it!” shrieked Bess; “she’ll be killed.”

CHAPTER XV.

A RAMBUNCTIOUS RAM.

The ram evidently saw the other car coming; it tried to leap out but its hoofs were jammed in the spokes of the steering wheel.  Before Jake could pick himself up from the floor of the front part of the car there came a loud shriek from the runabout.  It was echoed by Miss Prescott and The Wren.

Crash!

The two cars came together with a fearful jolt.

The eyes of the young aviators aloft were fixed on the scene.  They saw the large car strike the runabout and crumple its engine hood.  Peggy gave a scream.

The ram, jolted out of its seat by the force of the collision, fell out to one side, allowing Jake to resume control of the wheel.  But the runabout!  It was ditched, its unfortunate occupant being pitched headlong into a ditch at the side of the road.

Down swept the aeroplanes, and there was a wild rush to the rescue.  Peggy, Jess and Bess ran to the side of the injured occupant of the strange runabout.  The boys divided themselves, attending to everything.

“Roy!  Roy! hurry, she’s unconscious!”

The cry came from Peggy as she rushed to the side of the young motorist.

Roy was not far off, and, at his sister’s cry, he hastened to her side.  Peggy had the girl’s head in her lap.

“Get water!” she cried.

But Jimsy was already on hand with a collapsible aluminum cup full of water from a near by spring.

“Oh, the poor dear,” sighed Peggy, “to think that our fun should have—­”

The strange girl opened her eyes.

“Who are you?” she exclaimed.  “Where is my machine?”

“Never mind for a minute,” spoke Peggy, seeing that Jimsy and Jake were trying to drag the machine out of the ditch, “we’ll fix it, never fear.”

“Oh, my head!” groaned the girl.

“That pesky ram,” exploded Roy angrily; “let me help you up into the road, you’ll be more comfortable.”

“Oh, thank you, I can stand,” came faintly from the injured girl.  “I—­am—­much better now.  What happened?”

“Why a sort of volunteer driver was experimenting with our car, and I guess he made a mistake in driving,” smilingly explained Roy.

“Oh, that ram!” cried the girl half hysterically.  “I thought I had a nightmare at first.”

“I don’t blame you,” smiled Peggy, “seeing a ram driving a motor car is apt to give one such ideas.”

“Are you really better?” asked Jess sympathetically as she came up.

“Peggy, get my smelling salts out of the traveling bag!” cried Miss Prescott anxiously.

The accident had disturbed her sadly.  The only unperturbed one in the party was Jake.  He took things with philosophical calm.