"What's the matter, John?" asked Wharton.
"The machine gun's jammed, and I can't fire a shot. The car seems to be breaking down, too. Don't you see that the Uhlans are gaining!"
"So, they are," said Wharton.
He and John snatched up their rifles and fired rapidly at the horsemen. Some of the bullets struck, but did not impede the pursuit. Carstairs pushed Weber out of the driver's seat, and seized the wheel himself. All his pride and confidence were aroused, and he did not have time to be polite. He could get the speed out of that machine and save them.
But it did not obey his hand. It staggered along like a tired man. Weber was right again. Something had gone wrong with the internal organism, and one could not stop to right it with pursuing Uhlans only a few hundred yards away.
"What shall we do?" exclaimed Weber. "Shall we jump for it and run? We may escape in the shelter of the forest?"
"Not yet," replied Carstairs firmly. "Not yet for three of us, though it may be best for you, since you'll be executed as a spy, when you're taken."
"If you don't go, I don't go either," said Weber. "We'll all stay together."
"Brave man!" said Carstairs admiringly. But he had time for no more words. He was wrenching at the machine as a rider for his life would pull at the mouth of a stubborn horse. Crippled as it was he managed to drag a little increase of speed from it. The Uhlans had dropped back somewhat and none of them fired. John believed that they refrained because they were sure of a capture. Wharton suddenly uttered a cry.
"A river," he exclaimed. "It's not more than five hundred yards ahead!"