CHAPTER XVI.
A TERRIBLE PREDICAMENT.
Patsy held his breath.
It was a novel and, at times, a thrilling sensation, that of riding at thirty miles an hour enclosed in a wicker hamper on the rear of an automobile.
At times the car ran smoothly and swiftly; at others it jolted heavily over a rougher road.
It was not dark in the basketlike receptacle into which Patsy had fairly crammed himself, yet the wickerwork was so compact that he could not see out unless he raised the cover, and that he did not venture to do.
Neither could he hear anything that was said by the two women on the front seat of the car, owing to the constant noise of the vehicle.
He knew, however, that he was on the road to Badger’s place, and speeding to the assistance of Nick Carter, and that was good enough for Patsy up to that time.
After half an hour’s run, as nearly as he could judge, the cramped and twisted young detective felt the car sweep in a swift curve out of the direct road it had been following, and speed along a much less smooth and even way.