Straightening up, he looked about him. The automobile was parked beside the highway not far from an all-night restaurant and filling station.
The driver had disappeared.
Flash rolled down the window, gazing toward the lighted café. The main grille room was deserted save for the proprietress, and a man who appeared to be using a telephone.
Flash nudged Doyle to awaken him.
“What’s the matter now?” the technician mumbled drowsily. “Why have we stopped?”
“That’s what I would like to know,” replied Flash. “Our driver is inside the café telephoning. He’s acting peculiar.”
Before Doyle could offer an opinion, the chauffeur came hurriedly toward the car.
“Why have we stopped?” Flash asked him sharply.
“Oh, you’re awake!” the man exclaimed. “I had to stop to find out about the roads. We took a wrong turn.”
“How much time have we wasted?” Doyle demanded.