car were making efforts to
escape. The chauffeur had advanced his spark, and the car was taking
the steep grade almost as well as was that of the pursuers.

"Can't we catch them?" cried Grace, in an agony of doubt and fear.

Larry narrowly watched the green car. He saw that in spite of the
efforts of the driver it was losing speed.

"We'll do it," he said, quietly.

Then Larry tried a trick which had come into his mind almost at the
last moment. Keeping his car going as fast as possible he steered it
so as to pass the other auto. He knew he had speed enough to do it,
and realized that he must act quickly, as they were almost at the
summit of the hill.

Closer and closer the two cars came together, that driven by the
young reporter gaining. Now the front wheels overlapped the rear
ones of the green machine--now they were at the side door of the
tonneau--now the two tonneaus were even! This was what Larry wanted.

Slowing down his engine the least bit, so as to keep in pace with
the other machine and not pass it, he called across to Mr. Potter,
as the two autos raced side by side:

"Mr. Potter, I bring you a message from your friends!"

"What is it?"

"It is this! 'The money is safe!'"

"Good!" cried the millionaire. "Now I don't care what these
scoundrels do!"

"Father! Father!" cried Grace.

"Stop that machine!" yelled Larry to the chauffeur of the green
car.

"You can't make me!" retorted the man.

"Jump into our car!" cried Fritsch to Mr. Potter. "You can do it!"

The two machines were close together, and so evenly were they
running that they seemed to be standing still, side by side. The
millionaire arose and endeavored to get out of the tonneau, and into
that of the auto in which sat his daughter.

"No, you don't!" exclaimed one of the men beside him, and he took
hold of Mr. Potter.

"Let me go!" called the rich man. "I'm not afraid of you now.
There's no longer any reason for me to remain in hiding!"

"You can't go until you sign those papers!" cried another of the
men.

"Stop that car!" shouted Larry again.

"Let's see you make me!" was the impudent retort of the man at the
wheel.

"I'll make you!" declared the young reporter.

He gave a quick motion to the steering wheel. Then he shoved the
levers over, and pressed down the pedal that cut out the muffler and
slightly relieved the strain on the motor. Fritsch's car shot ahead.
Larry steered it directly in front of the green machine,