Surely there ought to be some other way whereby he could say good-bye in a hurry. They would not search long for him if he once got away. Since Jim admitted that his arm was feeling better perhaps he would try and guide the machine into Fayette. Meanwhile Frank could be trying in some fashion to warn the authorities.
The sound of their voices just reached him as he sat there thinking. They were talking low now, as if desirous of not letting him hear, but Frank possessed keen ears, and could catch certain words, especially in Jim's heavier tones.
"It's just got to be did sooner or later. He could ruin all our game if he wanted to. I've risked too much now to take chances. Don't you go to showing any of your squeamishness, Bart; I won't have it," he was growling.
They must be referring to the boy who sat at the wheel and guided the moving car. Bart evidently said something more, for presently the voice of Jim once more came to the listening ears of the one so deeply interested.
"He ain't goin' to be hurted, I tell you. But his mouth has got to be kept closed, unless you want the hull county on our heels. I seen that feller play, and I know what he's capable of doin'. So just shut up, Bart, and do what I says, hear?"
Evidently the other finally agreed to abide by the decision of his leader; for they both relapsed into temporary silence.
"I must find some chance to jump!" Frank said over and over to himself, after having heard what had passed between the two men back of him.
To do it then and there invited a dislocated shoulder when he struck the hard ground. And then again there was that ugly, shiny thing which Jim had taken such deliberate pains to show him; he did not fancy being used for a target.
"How far along are we now?" asked Jim, close to his ear.
"About five miles out of Fayette, I think?" replied Frank, who had frequently come over this some course on his wheel, and knew the country well.