"The nerve of them, though—firing at us!" exclaimed Paul. "They might have hit one of us."
"I don't believe they would have done so intentionally," spoke the engineer. "The men are not as desperate as that. But the bullets might have glanced off. I imagine they fired low, just at the tires. But they had nerve even to chase after us, as if I were an escaping criminal."
"Do you think they had orders to prevent you from going away?" asked Dick.
"I believe they did," was the answer, "and to use force, if necessary. I didn't realize it before, but those men, including your Uncle Ezra, Mr. Hamilton, are probably desperate at the fear of losing control of this road. It means a big thing to them, and they want to beat Mr. Wardell if possible. But they shan't, if I can prevent it."
Dick, now that he realized that the chase was over for the time being, slowed up his car. They looked back along the level desert road, and saw, in the dim distance, the two men busy about their stalled machine.
"That will hold them for a while," said Mr. Cameron. "Now we can take our time about getting away."
Four hours later they had reached the end of the desert and had passed into Nevada.
"Into civilization once more," remarked Paul, as they saw the different nature of the country before them.
"And I'm glad of it," exclaimed Dick. "I've had enough of desert travel for a while."
"What is your programme?" asked Mr. Cameron, as they came to a pleasant place, where Dick decided they would stay for the night. It was sufficiently far from the main road to preclude the possibility of their pursuers finding them, even should they be able to get under way again. And that part of Nevada was not thickly populated.