How Mabel came to be in that car was a question that could wait for an answer till later. The only thing that mattered now was that she was there with a man she dreaded and despised, and her frenzied waving told Joe that she was in mortal fear and looked for him to help her.
Jim sat perfectly still without saying a word. Nothing must distract Joe for a second from that car and the view of the road ahead. He knew what nerves of steel were back of the sinewy hand that clutched the wheel. He had grasped the meaning of the chase, and he shared with his friend the determination that the cad in the car ahead should pay dearly for this escapade.
Suddenly Joe gave an exultant cry.
As they turned a curve, he saw that a railroad crossing lay ahead and that the gates were down, while a long freight train was lumbering leisurely by.
Fleming could not get past till the gates were raised, and by that time Joe would be upon him.
There was no cross road between him and the track into which Fleming’s car could escape. His enemy was trapped.
“You’ve got him, Joe!” exclaimed Jim, with a thrill of exultation in his voice.
“Yes,” Joe gritted between his teeth. “I’ve got him.”
And his tone would not have reassured Beckworth Fleming.