“I hope we don’t meet anything,” cried Jack.
“If we do grand bust—smash—crash—no chance—wow!” exploded the photographer.
But there was nothing in sight, and beyond the bridge was another up grade where Tom hoped to gain control of the runaway machine. But within a few hundred feet of the bridge some soldiers suddenly appeared, running from the bridge as if they were in haste to leave the vicinity.
As the car came in sight they waved it frantically back. One even leveled a rifle.
“Can’t stop,” shouted Tom Jukes, “brakes bust.”
They flashed by the men who looked mere blurs at the pace the car was now going.
Bang! came a shot behind them, but the bullet whistled by, making them involuntarily crouch low in the madly racing car. Behind them came shouts and yells. They could catch something about Germans.
“They think we’re German spies,” gasped Bill, as the car thundered across the bridge.
Hardly had it flashed across than there came a terrific explosion and looking back they saw the whole bridge blown skyward. Their lives had been saved by a miracle.
“Those soldiers must have mined that bridge and set the fuse just before we appeared,” declared Jack, looking rather white and dismayed.