“Can you put the engine to rights?” he asked.
“I can have a shot at it,” replied George. “The ignition is all right; there may be something wrong with the compression or the carburettor.”
“Well, let us wheel the machine down that by-lane and hope the Count will run by and not discover us, though that’s hardly likely when he doesn’t see our dust.”
“I hope to goodness he’s had a smash,” said George as they wheeled the car as fast as possible down the by-way. It was narrow, but not so narrow that a motor-car could not follow it. It was also stony, and broken by deep ruts; but George was able to pick a track for the gyro-car, and the two pushed it for about a kilometre until they were out of sight from the highway. Then George stripped off his coat and began to examine the engine, while Maurice walked a few yards back to a spot whence he could see the road.
Almost before he got there he heard the fast-approaching sound of the motor-car. A minute later he saw it dash by the end of the lane. Evidently the pursuers had not yet discovered that the gyro-car was no longer in front of them. But they were rushing at such a pace that the absence of dust ahead must soon make them suspect the truth, and then it was hardly doubtful that they would cast back and look about for tracks. It happened just as he expected. Within five minutes he heard the returning hum: the motor passed slowly back. Two men were walking beside it, examining the road. They discovered the track of the gyro-car turning into the lane, jumped into the motor-car, which swung round and began to run towards the place where Maurice stood concealed.
“They fancy we have taken a short cut,” said Maurice to himself; “they would come on foot if they thought we had broken down.”
It was soon clear that the motor was in difficulties. The road became rougher the farther it proceeded. It jerked and jolted over the stones and into the ruts, going quickly, at the imminent risk of overturning, or of an axle breaking. Its pace was soon reduced; for a moment or two it came to a stop, but started again immediately. Maurice, keeping out of sight, did not report progress to George for fear of flustering him. The boy was working busily inside the engine.
As the seconds passed, Maurice became more and more anxious. The pursuers would soon come in sight of him; then they would instantly guess that the gyro-car had broken down, and the two brothers would stand a poor chance against four determined and unscrupulous men in a wild country. He ran back; George had heard the throb of the approaching car, and called him with a low whistle.
“A few seconds, and we’ll be all right,” he said.
At that moment the motor came in sight, moving now at less than a walking-pace. Two hundred yards separated pursuers and pursued. The Count and two of his followers sprang from the car and rushed towards the gyro-car. George slammed down the casing and started the engine. Maurice was already in his place. In a moment George was beside him. He pulled over the gear lever, depressed the pedal, and the car was off. The Count was now within twenty yards of them. When he saw George spring into the car he whipped out his revolver and fired shot after shot; but his haste and the movement of the car ruined his aim. George had already declutched and changed into the second speed. The car gathered way, and, running within a wide rut, in less than a minute was out of sight.