Suddenly Spark, who sat directly behind Nick, thrust a hand in his pocket and slipped his fingers through a set of brass knuckles.
Bringing the hand out of his pocket, Spark half arose and dealt the detective a smashing blow on the back of the head.
Nick fell forward, stunned and helpless.
“He was shamming!” cried Spark; “quick, Clancy! Turn the machine, or we’re gone!”
Clancy flung himself on the steering lever and swerved the auto so that it missed the tree by a hair’s breadth.
A moment more and he had halted the ponderous machine.
“He was trying to do for us,” said Spark, excitedly.
“But why in the fiend’s name should he try to wreck us?” answered Clancy. “He would have done for himself as well.”
“He had some game, I tell you,” persisted Spark. “He must be one of Nick Carter’s men. He wants revenge for what you and I did to Carter, Clancy.”
“Bosh! Your nerves are running away with you, Spark.”