They were sinking down into the fire.
Almost wild with terror, the American sprang toward the wheel, but Branasko pushed him away roughly.
“Stand back,” he ordered gruffly. “It is the heat; let me alone!”
The American sank into his seat. The heat became more and more intense. Both men were purple in the face, and the perspiration was rolling from their bodies in streams. Down sank the machine.
“I can't manage it,” said Branasko hoarsely, “we'd as well give up.” Just then Johnston noticed the mouth of a cave behind Branasko.
“Look,” he cried, “can't we get into it?”
Branasko looked over his shoulder, and, as he saw the cave, he uttered a glad cry. He quickly turned the wheel and drew out a lever at his right. The machine obeyed instantly; it swerved round suddenly and dived into the cave. The cool air soon revived them, and Branasko had little trouble in bringing the car to a resting-place on the rocky floor of the cave. Before them hung impenetrable darkness, behind a curtain of red light.
“We are in a pretty pickle now,” said Johnston despondently, as they alighted from the car.
“Nothing to do but to make the best of it,” sighed Branasko.
“Perhaps this cave may lead out into some place of safety.”