"What idiot is driving like that on this kind of road!" exclaimed Frank. They looked back.
Even as he spoke the automobile flashed into sight.
It came around the curve behind and so swiftly did the driver take the dangerous turn that two wheels were off the ground as the car shot into view. A cloud of dust and stones arose, the car veered violently from left to right, and then it roared at headlong speed down the slope.
The boys glimpsed a tense figure at the wheel. How he kept the car on the road was a miracle, for the racing automobile swung from side to side. At one moment it would be in imminent danger of crashing over the embankment, down on the rocks below; the next instant the car would be over on the other side of the road, grazing the cliff.
"He'll run us down!" shouted Joe, in alarm. "The idiot!"
Indeed, the position of the two lads was perilous.
The roadway was narrow enough at any time, and this speeding car was taking up every inch of space. In a great cloud of dust it bore directly down on the two motorcyclists. It seemed to leap through the air. The front wheels left a rut, the rear of the car skidded violently about. By a twist of the wheel the driver pulled the car back into the roadway again just as it seemed about to plunge over the embankment. It shot over toward the cliff, swerved back again into the middle of the roadway, and then shot ahead at terrific speed.
Frank and Joe edged their motorcycles as far to the right of the road as they dared. To their horror they saw that the car was skidding again.
The driver made no attempt to slacken speed.
The automobile came hurtling toward them!