THE mirror in the speedster revealed the face of the driver. The elderly face of Blake’s visitor had undergone a change. It seemed governed by a grim pleasure.
The lips carried a thin, determined smile. The keen eyes glanced toward the mirror and sparkled. The lights of the sedan were far behind.
The speedster turned a curve. The eyes that showed in the mirror became suddenly alert. They were staring straight down the road.
In the speedster’s path was an open drawbridge! A boat was coming through a channel from the Sound.
Brakes screamed. The speedster lurched as firm hands swung the wheel to the left. Still traveling at high speed, the driver turned the car into a side road that led from the highway.
The front wheels struck a deep ditch in the road. The car swerved and crashed through a fence. Two tires exploded as the speedster turned on its side and hung precariously above the edge of the channel.
The sedan arrived less than a minute later. It skidded as the driver turned it across the road, narrowly escaping the fate of the roadster. It halted a few feet from the overturned car.
Then came the sharp rat-tat-tat of a machine gun as steel-jacketed bullets sprayed the body of the wrecked speedster.
A man started to leap from the front seat of the sedan. An exclamation from the back of the car caused him to return.
Men were rushing from the drawbridge. There was no time to delay. The sedan shot backward. It turned and whirled up the road down which it had come.