Buick!" cried Jack. "I'll just bet anything!"

But Harold could not go any faster, and the other car was making good
time. He continued, however, to keep it in sight, while Ruth
breathlessly urged him on.

The houses were closer together now, and Harold unconsciously slackened
his pace.

"Must we go slow?" asked Ruth, disappointed.

"Yes; the law's fifteen. But we'll take a chance on twenty-five!"

"Still, dad will have to slow up, too," remarked Jack, consolingly. "And
maybe we'll catch him on the open road again."

"It's almost like following elopers," laughed Harold. "I do love a
chase."

"So do I," agreed Ruth. Then, "Oh, see that bridge; do we have to cross
that?"

"Yes," replied Jack; "for that will take us into Trenton. And they must
be headed that way."

They slowed down before crossing the bridge when suddenly there was a
terrific report, like an explosion, which startled them so that they
almost jumped out of their skins. Harold applied the brakes quickly, and
swung the car sharply towards the side of the road.

"Good night!" he exclaimed; "a blow-out! I was a fool to leave that bum
shoe on the rear! And the spare is perfectly new!"

"We'll never catch them now!" mourned Ruth, dejectedly.

They sat gazing at each other helplessly.

"Well, we'll never catch them if we sit here all day; that's a sure
thing!" announced Jack, coming to life. "Come on, Mason! Let's break all
records for a quick change!"

They scrambled out into the road.

"Jerusalem!" exclaimed Jack, poking a finger at the jagged hole in the
flat tire, where the tread was so worn that the lining of the shoe was
exposed. "Look at that hole!"

He peeled off his coat and tossed it into the machine, and handed his
watch to Ruth, saying,

"Here, Ruth; time us, from now on."

Harold, following his example, was rummaging under the back seat for his
tools; he threw a kit and a jack out into the road calling,

"There you are, Wilkinson! You unscrew the rim-cleats, and I'll jack her
up."

"That's a funny-looking jack!" observed Ruth, looking at it curiously.

"It's a new kind," retorted Harold knowingly, thinking that Ruth, like
most girls, probably knew nothing about tools.

Jack glanced over his shoulder at the object; then dropped what he was
doing to examine it more closely.

"By George! Ruth's right! Where is the part that goes under the axle?"

Harold was out of the machine in a jiffy.

"Great snakes!" he howled, teari