Harry didn’t bother about them, just kept her rolling along at about twenty per, when all of a sudden we heard the people in that car shouting at us to stop.
“You don’t suppose it can be Brent Gaylong and his patrol, do you?” I asked.
Harry said, “No, they’re waiting for us up in the woods by this time.”
“It’s a flivver,” Grove said.
“Some nerve; a flivver calling to a Cadillac to stop,” I said.
“Are we going to get arrested now?” Skinny sung out in that funny high voice. Gee whiz, you could hardly blame him, after all the crazy things that had happened.
Harry said, “Maybe, but I couldn’t promise you. Perhaps so, if you’re good.”
We just kept running along about the same as before; Harry wouldn’t bother to stop and he wouldn’t bother to go faster. And all the while that other machine came zig-zagging and rattling along pell-mell, with the men in it shouting for us to stop.
Pretty soon, good night, there was a shot!
“Huh,” Harry said, all the while stopping the machine; “looks like business; I guess we’re pinched.”