Driving a car was comparatively new work for him, and the chances are that never before had he been on such a dangerous piece of road. Yet he was naturally a man of iron nerve, and would not hold back where Motor Matt led.
Spangler, from his appearance, was as frightened a man as there ever was in Arizona. A gray pallor had spread over his face, and his eyes were fairly popping from his head. Gripping his seat with both hands, he braced himself with his feet against the forward dip of the car.
"Dey're slidin' after us, cull," reported the boy.
"Gaining?"
"Dat's wot, but not like dey did on de level road."
"The foot of the mountain is just ahead of us. Can we get there before they overtake us?"
"Well, mebby we kin, but I wish de foot o' de mountain was half a mile nearer dan wot it is."
Facing about in his seat, Josh looked at the foot of the mountain for himself.
They were dropping toward it swiftly. There were no more curves—nothing but a straight fall, a shoot between bordering rocks and then a cheerful reach of road over the plain.
"We're in luck t' git out o' dis widout a broken neck," said Josh. "Chee, but dat level place looks good t' me."