"I know they are. But there is no machine made that can catch this one. Have your guns ready, though. In case they begin to fire, pick them off."
Pauline shuddered at the matter-of-fact way in which Rocco and the man on the other side drew their heavy pistols from their hip pockets and rested them on their knees.
"Do you see the girl in that car?" yelled Burgess to his companion over the din of their streaking machines.
"Yes. We want that party for more than speeding, I guess," answered
Blount. They bent low over their handle-bars and raced on.
"If he takes the 'S' curve like that we've got him—dead or alive," said Burgess.
"And it looks as if he would. By George, he is!"
Wrentz's car had shot suddenly out of sight around a twist in the road. Wrentz was an able driver, and, even at its terrific speed, the machine took the first turn gracefully. But Wrentz had not counted on a second shorter turn to the opposite direction. And he worked the wheel madly for a second swerve; the huge car skidded, spun round, and, reeling on two wheels for an instant, turned over in the ditch.
It was several moments before Pauline opened her eyes. She shut them quickly and staggered to her feet shuddering—she had been lying across Rocco's dead body which had broken her fall and saved her life.
Two other men lay motionless in the road. But from under the overturned car there came a sound, and Pauline realized, with quick alarm, that Wrentz was still alive. She ran across the road and into the parked woods that hid the railroad from the drive.
Wrentz struggled out from beneath the car. His eyes swept swiftly from the bodies of his dead comrades to the form of Pauline just vanishing in the thicket. He was bruised and bleeding, but with the instinct of a beast of prey he followed his quarry.