r started the motor. She ran across the
street to the car.

"Take me to a car lot that's open!"

"Yes, Lady."

She fumbled out a bill and threw it at him. She settled back in the
seat. "Hurry!"

He looked at the bill. "_Yes, indeed._" He started the car. "I sure
will."

The cab whirled away and U-turned toward Vermont.

She felt better to be moving.

And ten minutes later she was arguing with a salesman.

"This will do," she insisted. "I don't want a triple-guarantee, a road
test, a service check, a--"

"I'll have to make out a bill of sale."

"All I want to know is: Is the gas tank full?"

Indignantly, the salesman said: "Of course."

"Mail me the bill of sale! Tear it up! I don't care! Here--Here's my
hotel." After thrusting the card on him, she began to count money.

"The keys are in the ignition. I'll get your extra set. The license--"
He began to recount the money.

She got behind the wheel, snapped on the lights, pressed the ignition
button. The motor coughed and roared.

She spun the car out of the lot. She was weak with relief.

Maybe I can outrun him!

I hope.

_I've got to!_

I'll get as far away as I can. Then I'll ... I'll have to take a chance
waiting for an airplane. Then ... then ... when my money gives out....

I can't hope to run forever.

She shuddered.

* * * * *

Walt crawled out of the wreck. It seemed to be a miracle he was unhurt.

He had switched the car to automatic drive as he had seen the driver on
the desert do; he had not known that there was no automatic-drive beam
on that particular stretch of highway.

At the first curve--in a heart beat of time; too fast for him to avert
it--the car had hurtled the road and plowed into the embankment.

Walt cursed and shook his head and closed his eyes tightly, gathering
his thoughts.

A few minutes later a car with intensely bright headlights stopped to
give assistance. Walt threw the driver out and slipped behind the wheel.

In a moment he knew that he had a powerful motor under him.

CHAPTER VIII

An hour later (two of the twelve hours were gone) Julia was still free.
She had weaved and twisted across the city. She had crossed and
recrossed the super-highways and the local speedways. She had fled up
ramps and through under passes.

She had no way of telling how near Walt was; or what moment and from
what direction death might strike. She did not believe that he could
rea