“The marks of our wheels show that the car came down the side road leading over the mountains,” ventured Phillips.
“I know that,” returned Chick. “I have been looking things over. We have a patch on one of our hind tires, and it shows quite plainly in the dust. Jump in.”
When Phillips had taken his seat in the back of the machine, Chick turned into the side road—which ran up a rather steep hill—and opened the throttle wider.
“I see old Mala peeping out of a lower window at the corner of a blind,” observed Patsy. “The old rip thinks we don’t get on to him. Gee! I’d like to make over his ugly face!”
“Jason is by his side,” put in Phillips, with his usual coolness.
“I’ll attend to Jason the next time I meet him,” called out Chick, over his shoulder. “Where will this road take us, Phillips?”
“Anywhere,” was the rather unsatisfying answer. “It depends on how far you go.”
CHAPTER VII.
THE TRAIL TO THE CAVE.
The sun was well up, and the whole rugged landscape began to seethe under its direct, unshadowed rays, when Chick, after an hour’s run, suddenly stopped the car.
They had been making good time, even though it was mostly uphill.