"He couldn't hit a barn at the rate he's going," shouted Jack. "Come on, let's get a little nearer and then we'll try our hand at it."
They waited till they were within about one hundred and fifty feet and then Bob fired, followed a moment later by Jack. They were both good shots with the revolver, but, under the condition, they knew that it would be more good luck than anything else if they succeeded in hitting a tire. By this time, the man they supposed to be Reed, although he now wore a mustache, had his gun loaded again and began firing, but, fortunately, with no effect.
Jack had but one shot left when a ball from Reed's revolver passed through his hat.
"Gee, that's getting a little too close for comfort," he muttered.
Taking careful aim, he slowly pressed the trigger and this time a loud report followed the bark of the revolver.
"Got 'em," he shouted as both turned off the power and pressed on the brakes.
He had indeed got 'em more thoroughly than he supposed, for as the air left one of the rear tires, they saw the car suddenly swerve to the right, and before the driver could regain control, it had turned turtle into the ditch by the road side.
"Gracious, I guess that ends them," cried Bob, as they brought their wheels to a standstill not more than seventy feet from the overturned car.
CHAPTER XXIII.
THE ROUND UP.
The boys, thinking that the robbers might still be able to shoot, went back a little way until they saw the other car coming.