Steering to one side, to avoid running into the mass of men, soldiers and kidnappers that seemed to be mixed up in inextricable confusion, Jerry sent his machine after Noddy’s, which was speeding away.
“Shall I try a shot at the tires?” asked Ned, fingering his revolver.
“No; you might hit Bob,” replied Jerry. “I’ll catch him.”
The battle was now divided. On one side the soldiers and the Mexicans were fighting. On the other was the race between the two autos; a contest of machinery.
At first it seemed that Noddy would escape. But Jerry, throwing in the high-speed clutch, cut down the distance between his car and Noddy’s. A few minutes after the chase started it became evident that Jerry would win.
Vasco, seeing how matters were likely to go, had jumped into the car as Noddy started off. All this while poor Bob was bound, and the cloak was still about his head, so he could not tell what was going on. But he guessed it was some attempt to rescue him.
Nearer and nearer came Jerry’s auto. The front wheels overlapped the rear ones of Noddy’s machine.
“Stop, or I’ll fire!” cried the professor, suddenly, leveling a revolver at Noddy’s crowd. They paid no heed to him.
With a quick motion, Vasco leaned over the edge of the seat and fired three times in rapid succession at the tires of Jerry’s machine. He missed his aim, but Jerry saw the danger that threatened him. He increased his speed.
In another minute he had come up alongside of Noddy’s auto.