“That’s him!” cried the young reporter. “Now for the million dollars!”
He pressed the accelerator pedal, and his machine shot ahead like a bolt from a catapult. In a cloud of dust he passed the other vehicle in which a man rode alone. Larry did not give him a backward glance, but, when the young reporter’s car was far enough ahead, it came to an abrupt stop. Then Larry backed it squarely across the rather narrow road.
With a screech of the brakes the other man brought his machine to a stop, just in time to avoid a collision.
“What do you mean?” he snarled at Larry. “Are you crazy? Have you had an accident? What are you blocking the road for?”
“So you can’t get past,” replied Larry calmly.
“So I can’t get past? What do you want to stop me for?”
“To get the million dollars belonging to the Consolidated Bank,” was the answer.
CHAPTER XXV
THE MILLION DOLLARS
Had Larry exploded a bombshell under the other man’s car, the effect on him would not have been any more startling. And yet, aside from the number of the car, the young reporter had no way of being sure that the man in it was the absconder. Indeed, when he looked at the shrunken frame of the driver, and noted as well as he could behind the goggles the unshaven, haggard face, it was not a bit like Norton’s. Yet Larry was sure he was right.
Indeed the man’s action on hearing the fateful words was proof enough. He seemed to shrink down in his seat. His hands dropped from the steering-wheel. He gazed blankly at Larry through the big goggles.