The turn in the road was almost gained, and both machines had slowed down once more, when there came a shrill, screeching whistle from behind, and a racing car shot into sight, moving along with a great noise, for the muffler had been cut out. All of the girls screamed in fright, and instinctively Dave and Roger ran their cars as close to the right side of the road as possible. Then, with a roar, the racing car shot past, sending up a cloud of dust, and a shower of small stones, one of which hit Laura Porter in the cheek, and another striking Phil in the ear.
"Fellows that run that way ought to be arrested," was Roger's comment.
"Oh, I was so afraid we should be struck!" gasped Jessie, sinking back into her seat with a white face.
"Did you recognize them?" asked Belle Endicott.
"I didn't have time to look," answered Roger. "I was busy getting out of the way."
"Just what I was doing," added Dave. "I didn't want them to take off the mudguard, or a wheel."
"I caught sight of one of the fellows," said Ben Basswood. "He looked right at me as he passed."
"Who was it?" questioned several eagerly.
"Nat Poole."
"Nat Poole!" cried Dave. "Surely, he wasn't driving that racing car."