"Come on, now. There isn't a
minute to lose. Send Jim up here to take charge of Forbes. I'll
drive the car myself."
Garrick accomplished in seconds what it takes minutes to tell. The
chauffeur had already turned the car around and it was ready to
start. We jumped in, leaving him to go upstairs and keep the
manacled Forbes safely.
We gained the road and sped along, our lights now lighted and
showing us plainly what was ahead. The dust-laden air told us that
we were right as we turned into the narrow crossroad. I wondered
how we were ever going to overtake them after they had such a
start, at night, too, over roads which were presumably familiar to
them.
"Drive carefully," shouted Dillon soon, "it must be along here,
somewhere, Garrick."
A moment before we had been almost literally eating the dust the
car ahead had raised. Garrick slowed down as we approached a bend
in the road.
There, almost directly in our path, stood a car, turned half
across the road and jammed up into a fence.
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