There was no difficulty in finding Elberton,
for a railroad led to it; so we got there all
right. Driving into the garage for some wat
er, I advised the chauffeur to buy some oil.
“Burnt child,” etc.
In the garage was Mr. Bell, of “Bell’s Fer
ry.” That was where we wanted to cross
Broad river, out of Elberton, on our way to
Washington, Wilkes County. Mr. Bell—as I
understood him—directed us to take the right
hand road twice; and then keep straight on to
the Ferry. He added; “I live at the Ferry,
and am ready to go, as soon as I get some oil.
J on just keep behind my car.”
I was overjoyed. It was the first streak of
luck that we had struck. “Get right behind"
Mr. Bell’s car,” said I to the driver “and stay
there. I’m hungry for a little more traveling
on the right road.”
Away went Mr. Bell and his companion,
Mr. Dixon, heavyweights, both. They seemed
to me to fill their car plumb full. In fact, it
looked to me that they bulged out on each
side. Mr. Bell is a prudent man; he drives his
car with great moderation. The machine that
I was in was a powerful one, of 40 horse-pow
er; and the chauffeur, an expert. It was all
we could do to keep behind Mr. Bell. After
doing so awhile, it occurred to me that life,
was too short to keep it up. So I waved to
Bell’s car to go faster. The reply was, a wave
for us to pass on ahead.
