CHAPTER XVI.
THE ENEMY’S MOVE.
Roy’s first feeling was one of indignation at the fellow’s impudence.
“What do you mean by such conduct,” he blurted out angrily. “Take me to the aviation grounds at once, or––”
“That’s just where we are taking you away from, young fellow,” sneered the man behind the pistol. “Ah! Don’t move. I’m very nervous and if I get excited this pistol might go off. It’s very light on the trigger.”
As he spoke the auto slowed down almost to a standstill, and the man who had evidently been waiting for it, swung himself on the running board and joined the others on the front seat. Like the driver, he wore a motoring mask and goggles which effectively concealed his features, and yet to Roy there was something familiar even about the muffled up figure. Once the third man was aboard, the auto plunged forward once more at breakneck speed. It rocked from side to side on the rough road as it flew along. But the man with the pistol kept his weapon levelled at Roy throughout all its jouncings and joltings.
Like a wise boy, Roy had concluded that it would be worse than foolish to attempt any resistance to his abductors. So he sat motionless and silent as the car tore onward through the night. He had not the least idea where they were, nor for what place they could be bound. Nor had he yet had time to think over the reason for this bold kidnapping.
Now, however, it was plain that the object of the trip was to take him to some place and hold him prisoner till the aero race was over. It struck him with cruel force that, unless he could manage to escape, the object of the expedition seemed very likely to prove successful.
All at once the car struck a bump in the road with a violent wrenching thud. It leaped into the air like a live thing while a frightened shout burst from the throats of the men on the front seat. Mechanically Roy gripped the sides of the tonneau to avoid being thrown out like a missile.