Their swift motorcycles had brought Dan and Mildred almost to the spot where the Speedwells had set their derrick in the afternoon. The contrivance had disappeared!
“Stop!” shouted Dan, and shut off his power and leaped from his saddle. He ran to the side of the road. There was the stump of the post he and Billy had set. It had not broken off, but had been chopped down with an axe!
And the whole apparatus had been allowed to fall over the precipice. In the darkness below the wall Dan could not see whether or not the falling derrick had crashed upon the automobile in the tree-top.
CHAPTER VIII
ON WATCH
“Oh, Dan! what is it?” cried Mildred, dismounting from her own motorcycle, and running to the gap in the wall through which the lad was leaning, seeking to peer into the gulf. “What has happened?”
“Somebody has knocked down our derrick. I hope the auto has escaped,” muttered Dan.
He ran back to his machine, lifted off the storage battery lamp, and came with it to the verge of the precipice again. Its bright ray flashed into the depths revealed one thing at least—the auto was still wedged in the tree limbs. The heavy timbers had missed it in their fall.
“Oh, Dan! the car is there,” cried Mildred, “And can you ever get it up to the roadway—do you believe you can?”
“We won’t be able to get it up here if many such tricks as this are played on us,” grunted Dan. “Ah! here’s Billy.”