The question was asked in evident surprise, but Durland replied
confidently.

"Yes, General," said he. "I've got two Scouts, at least, who are
perfectly capable of handling an automobile under any conditions. I'd
trust myself to them, no matter how hard the road might be."

"I'm glad to hear it," said the general, rather dryly. "I've got two of
those new-fangled scout duty cars, with an armored hood and those new
non-explosive tires, that can't be stopped by a bullet aimed at the
wheels. But they didn't send me anyone to run them. There may be some
chauffeurs in my brigade, but I'm not too anxious to take any men from
their regiments. Here--I'll give you an order for one of the cars. Let
your Scouts make the best use they can of it."

Durland had heard of the new scouting cars, but had never seen one. He
went now, since there was plenty of time, to look it over, and found a
heavy but high-powered and fast machine of a most unusual type.

The hood was armored, so that no stray bullets could reach the engine,
as would be easy enough in the ordinary car. Similar protection was
afforded to the big gasoline tank in the rear of the car, and the seats,
intended for two men, were covered by a shield, also of bullet-proof
armor, that was so pierced with small holes that the road ahead could be
seen.

But the most extraordinary feature of the car was the new type of wheel.
There were no tires in the ordinary sense at all. Instead, there was a
tough, but springy steel substitute, and Durland spent an hour in
looking the queer contrivance over, having first satisfied himself that
the car was not sufficiently different from the ordinary automobile to
make it impossible for Jack Danby to operate it. For it was Jack Danby
he had had in mind when he asked for the use of the machine.

His friend Lieutenant Tomlinson came up while he was looking it over.

"Queer lookin' critter, isn't it?" said Tomlinson. He seemed quite
enthusiastic. "I tell you what," he went on, "if that thing works out
all right, it's going to revolutionize certain things in warfare. And
it's perfect, theoretically. Tires are the things that have barred
automobiles from use in warfare so far. Ping!--a bullet hits a tire, and
the car is stalled. Or suppose the chauffeur wants to leave the road and
go 'cross country? His tires again. He's afraid to."

"And this has tires that won't be afraid of bullets or rocks, either,
eh?"

"I should say they wouldn't!