“We’ll see,” the Colonel said. “Hell, man, it hasn’t rained in three weeks.”
“I don’t trust those side roads in this low country.”
“If we get stuck, I’ll haul you out with oxen.”
“I was only thinking about the car, sir.”
“Well, think about what I told you and turn off on the first left side road you see if it looks practicable.”
“That looks like one coming up, from the hedges,” the driver said.
“You’re all clear behind. Pull up just ahead of it and I’ll go over and have a look.”
He stepped out of the car and walked across the wide, hard-surfaced road and looked at the narrow dirt road, with the swift flowing canal beside it, and the thick hedge beyond. Beyond the hedge, he saw a low red farmhouse with a big barn. The road was dry. There were not even cart ruts sunk in it. He got back into the car.
“It’s a boulevard,” he said. “Quit worrying.”
“Yes, sir. It’s your car, sir.”
“I know,” the Colonel said. “I’m still paying for it. Say, Jackson, do you always suffer so much any time you go off a highway onto a secondary road?”
“No, sir. But there’s a lot of difference between a jeep, and a car as low hung as this. Do you know the clearance you have on your differential and your body frame on this?”
“I’ve got a shovel in the trunk and we’ve got chains. Wait till you see where we’re going after we leave Venice,”
“Do we go all the way in this car?”
“I don’t know. I’ll see.”
