“Then there can be no mistake. But I believe that there is another maroon car running under Mr. Briggs’ number,” and Dan explained briefly what he knew about the car belonging to, or used by, the men who had robbed Mr. Sudds and the Farmers’ Bank.
“This robbery of the postoffice at Farmingdale last night,” continued Dan Speedwell, “looks very much like the work of the same crowd, too. Besides, my brother and I are quite sure that these men passed us on the road this morning. It was not Mr. Briggs in that maroon car, that is sure. He would have stopped and spoken to us when he saw that we were stalled.”
“I’ll send your information up and down the line,” promised the timekeeper. “But there certainly has been no maroon car past here—in either direction—to-day, or yesterday.”
When Dan got back to the car, Billy already had her cranked up. They ran swiftly out into the highway, reached the down grade, shut off power, and began to coast. For some ten or fifteen miles the map showed that the road into the valley was very crooked; they dared not put much power to their car. And sometimes when she merely coasted, the speedometer showed a forty-five and fifty mile an hour pace!
Eighty-seven miles in an hour and three-quarters—that was the work cut out for them. Half of it was down grade, at least; but it was only when they were within twenty miles of the foot of the mountain that the Speedwells were able to let her out and show just what the Breton-Melville car could do on a gentle slope, and on a good road.
They took that stretch of twenty miles in seventeen minutes!
At the end of that sharp run Billy counted on his fingers and declared that there were but eight cars ahead of them.
It was four o’clock when they drove through New Hapsburg at a twelve mile an hour rate. Suddenly they came upon a car around which there was quite a crowd. It was one of the contesting machines, Dan and Billy knew, and as they shut off their engine they heard several wrangling voices in the crowd.
“I tell ye I don’t care anything about no race!” cried one harsh voice. “You’re under arrest for exceeding the speed limit through the streets of this here city.”
“Another Josiah Somes!” chuckled Billy. “What car is it that’s pinched?”