On and on through the night throbbed the Golden Butterfly, making fast time. At last they decided that it was time to return. The object of the trip, to see that all was in running order, had been accomplished. Nothing remained to do now but to wait for the morrow and what it would bring forth. The nature of the tests had been carefully guarded, and not one of the contestants knew anything about what they were to be till the hour came at which they would be announced from the judges' boat.
Suddenly, as they neared the environs of Hampton and the glare of electric lights could be seen on the sky, Jimsy gave a cry and pointed down below. They were flying pretty low, and in a road beneath them they could see an automobile. Its headlights shone brightly but it had stopped. All at once a sharp shout for help winged upward.
"Hullo!" exclaimed Jimsy, "somebody's in trouble down there. Maybe we'd better descend. That is, if you girls aren't scared?"
"Um—well," began Jess, but Peggy interrupted her:
"Jess Bancroft, I'm ashamed of you. It's our duty to help out if we can."
"At least if it gets too hot we can always retreat," muttered Jimsy.
Under the covering of one of the lockers was a revolver. Under Peggy's directions Jimsy found it. The next moment they were descending rapidly. With hardly more noise than an alighting night bird, they dropped into the lane in which the auto was stalled. As they touched ground the sound of harsh voices caught their ears:
"Shell out now, if you don't want to be half-killed!"
"Yes, come on. Hand over your coin, or it'll be the worse for you," chimed in another ruffianly voice.
"Good gracious!" gasped Jess, "it's a hold up!"