The horsemen were, indeed, out of sight. They had not been visible for at least ten minutes.
Either a good horse or an automobile can travel a considerable distance in that period of time.
“Do you suppose they have given it up, chief?” asked Chick, in a low tone.
“I do not,” was Nick Carter’s positive reply. “I’ve met Gaspara, and I am sure he is not the man to yield until he is sure he can’t go any farther. We’ll hear from him again before we get to Paron.”
The prediction of the famous detective was verified within another five minutes.
They had reached a place where the path narrowed, so that they were much closer to the sharp edge of the abyss on their right than they had been. At the same time, bowlders at the foot of the slope on the left interfered with the car there.
Nick Carter was endeavoring to steer a safe middle course, and at the same time not reduce the speed too much, when a shout of warning and alarm from Patsy made him throttle down the power, throw in the neutral clutch, and jam his foot on the brake.
The car came to a dead stop.
Chick swung around to see what the trouble was, and instantly yelled to Nick to go on.
“Hustle for all there is in her!” roared Chick.