But for the fact that a cart was presenting a momentary obstruction, our quarry would have been gone. As it was, I flung myself on to the running-board as she was gathering speed….
Without a word, I thrust my arm in at the window and switched off the engine. As she slowed up I leapt for the bonnet, whipped it open and felt for the high-tension wire. At that moment the engine re-started…. For a second whoever was driving fumbled with the gears…. As the wheels meshed with a chunk, my fingers found what they sought. The next instant the car lunged forward—and the wire broke.
I fell on my back, certainly, and my hand was bleeding, but I could afford to smile. The gun was spiked.
As I rose to my feet, the car came gently to rest twenty-five paces away.
"All right?" panted Berry by my side.
"Every time," said I. "And now for it." I turned to a gaping youth. "Allez cherche la police," I flung at him. "Vite!"
As we came up to the car—
"And may I ask," drawled a voice, "the meaning of this hold-up? I guess you'll get tired of answering before you're through, but, as the owner of this vehicle, I'm just curious."
"Cut it out," said I shortly. "And just come out of that car. Both of you."
So far as the speaker's companion was concerned, my injunction was supererogatory. Even as I spoke, with a scream of agony the latter emerged from the car. Holding him fast by the wrist, Berry had almost broken his arm across the jamb of the door.