fter 'em! That's the gang! They've been
headed off at Boggs City--or something like that."

"Did anybody ketch the number of that car?" shouted Anderson. "I c'n
trace 'em by their license number if--"

The rest of the speech was lost in the rush to enter the waiting
automobiles, and the shouting that ensued. Then followed a period of
frantic cranking, after which came the hasty backing and turning of
cars, the tooting of horns and the panic of gears.

Loaded to the "gunnels," the half-dozen machines finally got under way,
and off they went into the night, chortling with an excitement all their
own.

A lone figure remained standing in front of Anderson Crow's gate--a
tall, lank figure without coat or hat, one suspender supporting a pair
of blue trousers, the other hanging limp and useless. He wore a red
undershirt and carried in his left hand the trumpet of a fire-fighting
chieftain.

"Well, I'll be dog-goned!" issued from his lips as the last of the cars
rattled away. Then he started off bravely on foot in the wake of the
noisy cavalcade. "Now, all of 'em are breakin' the speed laws; an' it's
goin' to cost 'em somethin', consarn 'em, when I yank 'em up 'fore
Justice Robb tomorrow, sure as my name's Anderson Crow."

Presently he heard a car approaching from behind. It was very dark in
the outskirts of the town, and the lonely highway that reached down into
the valley was a thing of the imagination rather than of the vision.
Profiting by the catastrophes that attended the passing of the big
touring-car Anderson hastily leaped to the side of the road. A couple of
small headlights veered around a curve in the road and came down the
slight grade, followed naturally and somewhat haltingly by an automobile
whose timorous brakes were half set. There was a single occupant.

Anderson levelled his trumpet at the driver and shouted:

"Halt!"

"Oh-h!" came in a shrill, agitated voice from the car, but the machine
gave no sign of halting.

"Hey! Halt, I say!"

"I--I don't know how!" moaned the voice. "How do you stop it?"

"Good gracious sakes alive! Is--is it _you_, Eva?"

"Oh, Anderson! Thank goodness! I thought you was a highwayman. Oh,
dear--oh, dear! Ain't there any way to stop this thing?"

"Shut off the power, an' it'll stop when you start up the grade."

Anderson was trotting along behind, tugging at one of the mud-guards.

"How do you shut it off?"

"The same way you turned it on."

"Goodness, what a f