PART II
THE GIRL AND THE PLATE
CHAPTER I
Low-bent over the steering-wheel, the Burglar sent the automobile scuttling breathlessly along the flat road away from Seven Oaks. At the first shot he crouched down in the seat, dragging the Girl with him; at the second, he winced a little and clenched his teeth tightly. The car's headlights cut a dazzling pathway through the shadows, and trees flitted by as a solid wall. The shouts of pursuers were left behind, and still the Girl clung to his arm.
"Don't do that," he commanded abruptly. "You'll make me smash into something."
"Why, Dick, they shot at us!" she protested indignantly.
The Burglar glanced at her, and, when he turned his eyes to the smooth road again, there was a flicker of a smile about the set lips.
"Yes, I had some such impression myself," he acquiesced grimly.
"Why, they might have killed us!" the Girl went on.
"It is just barely possible that they had some such absurd idea when they shot," replied the Burglar. "Guess you never got caught in a pickle like this before?"