CHAPTER XI—THE WRONG ROAD
Less than five minutes later the approaching automobile swept into view. The boys felt rather uneasy when they saw it, for they knew it instantly to be the identical yellow machine used by Mr. Peregrine’s enemies. Nor was their alarm at all allayed by the fact that the front seat was occupied by two men whom they well knew had no good intentions toward the inventor.
Worse still, the model and the accompanying papers of explanation were exposed to full view in the tonneau in case the men should stop and make an investigation. Tom made a move to cover the box containing the precious bit of apparatus, but Jack checked him. He knew that their only chance of escaping interference from the men now approaching them was to act as if they were merely out on a pleasure jaunt.
He counseled both Tom and Ralph to appear composed.
“There’s a chance that they won’t bother us at all,” he said, “although it does look as if they must have followed us from Pokeville.”
“How could they know which road we took,” asked Tom, “if that was the case?”
“Easy enough to trail our peculiar-looking tires,” was Jack’s reply.
He spoke in a low voice, though, for at that moment the yellow auto rolled up alongside and, as Jack had feared, the red-bearded man, who was driving, brought his machine to a standstill beside the boys’ Flying Road Racer.
“Well, once more we meet,” said he, as he shut off the gas and the spark; “out on a trip?”
The man did not have his goggles on this time, and now that his face was exposed Jack saw that it was a mean and crafty one. Two small eyes, set close together and gleaming brightly, seemed to search the lad’s heart as they were fixed on him.