“Yes, sir, I filled her up with gas and oil, and she’s in apple-pie order.”

“Why, Tom!” broke in Sam, in surprise.  “You must have given this order before supper.”

“I did,” and Tom grinned at his younger brother.  “I took it for granted that you would make the trip.”  And thus speaking, Tom leaped into the driver’s seat of the new touring car.  Then Sam took his place beside his brother, and in a moment more the car was gliding out of the garage, and down the curving, gravel path leading to the highway running from Ashton past Brill College to Hope Seminary.

As Tom had predicted, it was a clear night, with the full moon just showing over the distant hills.  Swinging into the highway, Tom increased the speed and was soon running at twenty-five to thirty miles an hour.

“Don’t run too fast,” cautioned Sam.  “Remember this road has several dangerous curves in it, and remember, too, a good many of the countrymen around here don’t carry lights when they drive.”

“Oh, I’ll be careful,” returned Tom, lightly.  “But about the lights, I think some of the countrymen ought to be fined for driving in the darkness as they do.  I think——­”

“Hark! what sort of a noise is that?” interrupted the younger Rover.

Both boys strained their ears.  A shrill honk of a horn had been followed by a heavy rumble, and now, around a curve of the road, shot the beams from a single headlight perched on a heavy auto-truck.  This huge truck was coming along at great speed, and it passed the Rovers with a loud roar, and a scattering of dust and small stones in all directions.

“Great Scott!” gasped Sam, after he had recovered from his amazement.  “Did you ever see such an auto-truck as that, and running at such speed?”

“Certainly some truck,” was Tom’s comment.  “That must have weighed four or five tons.  I wonder if it came over the Paxton River bridge?”

“If it did, it must have given the bridge an awful shaking up.  That bridge isn’t any too strong.  It shakes fearfully every time we go over it.  Better run slow, Tom, when we get there.”

“I will.”  And then Tom put on speed once more and the automobile forged ahead as before.

A short run up-hill brought them to the point where the road ran down to the Paxton River.  In the bright moonlight the boys could see the stream flowing like a sheet of silver down between the bushes and trees.  A minute more, and they came in sight of the bridge.

“Stop!” said Sam.  “I may be mistaken, but that bridge looks shifted to me.”

“So it does,” returned Tom, and brought the automobile to a standstill.  Both boys leaped out and walked forward.

To inspect the bridge in the bright moonlight was easy, and in less than a minute the boys made a startling discovery, which was to the effect that the opposite end of the structure had been thrown from its supports and was in danger of falling at any instant.