“There’s the bridge!” yelled Simmons almost excitedly.  “Slow down—–­stop!”

Valden tried to obey, but the bridge was altogether too close for stopping in time.  Out over the planks ran the car.

R-r-rip!  Crash!

Some of the boards were already missing from the rude bridge.  Others gave way almost like paper.  Down through the structure fell the car, then landed with a splash, overturning to the accompaniment of cries of fright and of pain from its occupants.

CHAPTER XIII

In A fix!

As the water in the creek was barely three feet deep, Officer Valden sprang from the car, holding his right hand, which had been caught in the brake mechanism.

Deputy Simmons appeared to be uninjured.

Greg Holmes went under water, his head striking a stone violently enough to bring a splash of blood to his forehead.

Dave Darrin’s head struck against the side of the car, bringing a cry of pain from him.

Yet, though he was dizzy from the concussion, Darry displayed the coolest head of any of them in the first few moments.

“Where’s Dick?” he called, when he saw the others accounted for.  Then Dave wrenched off one of the lamps, holding it to aid his vision.

“There he is!” shouted Darrin, as his foot touched something.  “His head is under water.  Up with him, quickly!”

Dave brought the rays of the lantern to bear more directly, while Simmons sprang to the rescue.  Greg, too, joined in.

“He’s pinned down by the car!” gasped Deputy Simmons after finding Prescott’s submerged body and giving it a hard tug.  “Valden, help me lift the car on this side!  You two boys pull your friend out when we lift the car.  Now!”

Though Deputy Valden was able to employ only his left hand, he used it with all his strength.

“Here he comes,” panted Dave, tugging at Dick’s body with all his might.  “Gracious!  I hope he isn’t drowned!”

Greg, too, exerted all his strength.  Though it seemed ages to the anxious ones it was really but the work of a few seconds.

As Dick’s head emerged above the surface of the water he gave a quick gasp.  Then another.

“Oh, the air seems good,” he moaned.  “I tried to keep from opening my mouth or breathing, but it nearly burst my lungs!”

“Are you all right now?” asked Darry, holding his chum up.

“If you’ll help me to the bank I shall be, I think,” answered Prescott weakly.

“Why, what-----” began Dave anxiously.

“I was badly bruised by being pinned under the car,” Dick admitted, in a still weaker voice.

“No bones broken, eh?” broke in Greg Holmes.

“I—–­I think not,” Dick answered.

“Don’t keep him talking,” ordered Dave sternly.  “Put in your strength and help me lift good old Dick up into the road.”