"I guess we've got ropes enough," spoke Bart. "The next thing is to get some pulleys and find something strong enough to stand the strain. I guess that big oak tree will do. Who knows where we can get some pulleys?"
"There are some at our house," said Fenn. "The painters left them there when they finished the job last week. I can get them."
"Good!" cried Bart. "You get 'em, and we'll get the ropes in shape."
When Fenn returned with the pulleys he found that his chums had taken several turns of one of the ropes about a tree, that was to stand the strain of hauling the auto back on firm ground. The pulleys were arranged so as to give more power to the hauling force, and then, the cables having been cautiously fastened to the back of the auto, Bart gave the word, and half a score of boys assisted the chums in heaving on the rope.
There was a long pull, a strong pull, and a pull altogether, but the auto never budged.
"Hold on!" a voice urged, and the boys, and others in the crowd saw a telephone lineman approaching.
"That wire holds the wheels!" he explained, pointing to where the wire from the fence was entangled in the spokes. "You fellows hold on the rope and I'll cut it for you!"
Drawing out a big pair of cutters he crawled under the rear of the auto, and, lying on his back, proceeded to sever the wire strands.
"Keep the rope taut!" urged Bart. "When the wire is cut there'll be a heavy strain."
The boys, and several men who had taken hold of the hempen cable, braced themselves. There was a snap, as the cutters went through the wire.
There was a creaking of the ropes. A sudden strain came on them, so powerful, that those holding the strands felt the hemp slipping through their fingers.
"She's going over the cliff!" cried Bart. "Hold her, boys! Hold her!"
Farther and farther over the cliff slid the heavy auto. The boys and men, holding the rope, were pulled slowly along, as is a losing team in a tug-of-war.
"Snub your rope, boys!" a voice suddenly called. "Snub her! That's the only way to hold her back! Take a half hitch around that stump, and you'll have her! She's got a little too much way on for you! Snub her! Snub her, I say!"
Bart gave one glance at the man who had called these directions. He saw a short, squatty figure, wearing a dark blue cap, with some gold braid on it. One glance was enough to show that the man knew what he was talking about.