“Don’t shoot!” yelled Noddy, trying to duck behind the dash-board and steer at the same time, with the result that he nearly overturned the auto.
“I wasn’t goin’ to,” replied the hunter, with a grim chuckle. “I only wanted to let you know I was on hand in case I might be wanted.”
After this the taunts from Noddy’s gang ceased. In stern determination the race now settled down into a contest to see who should be first at the mine, for on that depended everything.
[For nearly ten miles the two autos were close together], neither gaining any advantage. It began to get dusk, and the boys considered whether they should stop for the night or keep on.
“I think we had better camp until morning,” advised Broswick. “We might git ahead of ’em, an’, again, we might not. The chances are we’d bust a tire or sumthin’, an’ then we’d be worse off than before. Slow an’ sure is better than quick an’ never.”
So, somewhat to Nestor’s disappointment, the auto came to a stop when the road was no longer visible because of darkness.
“They’re goin’ on; I don’t see why we can’t,” grumbled the miner.
“Too risky,” replied Broswick. “We’ll make better time in the end.”
“Then we’ve got to start bright an’ early in the mornin’,” stipulated Nestor.