After awhile, the pavement, such as it was, gave way to a road of hard surface clay. Vegetation was scanty, scarcely more than a few tufts of grass and an occasional twisted algarroba tree.
The two cars were about an hour out of Cuertos when Jack noticed that a gray car was following some distance behind.
At first, he gave it only casual attention. However, when his own driver slowed to a standstill before attempting to cross a narrow log bridge, he was surprised to see the other automobile pull up some distance back.
“That’s funny,” he remarked aloud.
“What is?” Ken demanded. Half asleep, he pulled himself upright to look back down the road.
“No matter how slow we travel, that car behind never tries to pass us.”
“The road’s narrow.”
“Even so, Ken, not many drivers would eat dust for fifty miles. He’s had several chances to pass.”
Now that his attention had been drawn to the vehicle behind the two Scout cars, Ken kept watch. Not until their own automobile had crossed the log bridge, did the following car start up.
As the road presently widened, Jack directed the driver to slow down and give the car behind every chance to pass. Instead of doing so, it too, slackened speed.