Nestor was greatly excited. He was on familiar ground now, and saw landmarks on every side. As the auto passed a dead sycamore tree he shouted:
“Only two miles farther now! Then, hurrah for the gold!”
The other machine clung doggedly to the Cresville auto. Jerry was going as fast as he dared, and Noddy was close behind. A few minutes more would tell the tale.
“One mile farther!” shouted Nestor.
The next instant there came a report like a revolver shot. Every one started, thinking they had been fired at.
“They’ve busted a tire!” shouted Broswick. “I reckon that puts them out of the race!”
Noddy was obliged to bring his machine to a sudden stop. There was a scene of confusion as the crippled machine was forced to give up the pursuit. Berry and Dalsett seemed to be urging Noddy to continue in spite of the accident, but, rash as the bully was, he knew better than to go on with a collapsed tire.
Jerry never slackened the speed of his auto, and rushed on, intent on the goal that was now so near. Ten minutes later the road came to an abrupt end against a slope of the mountain.
“Well?” asked Jerry, throwing out the gear and leaving the auto with the motor still running, panting like one who has run a long race. “What next? We can’t go any farther.”