h at the roadside, sprang out and hailed them.
The policeman had a motor-cycle, and Oliver shouted to the mechanic,
"Pull the cord!" His brother turned, alarmed and perplexed, and saw the
man reach down to the floor of the car. He saw the policeman leap upon
the cycle and start to follow. Then he lost sight of him in the clouds
of dust.

For perhaps five minutes they tore on, tense and silent, at a pace that
Montague had never equalled in an express train. Vehicles coming the
other way would leap into sight, charging straight at them, it seemed,
and shooting past a hand's breadth away. Montague had just about made
up his mind that one such ride would last him for a lifetime, when he
noticed that they were slacking up. "You can let go the cord," said
Oliver. "He'll never catch us now."

"What is the cord?" asked the other.

"It's tied to the tag with our number on, in back. It swings it up so
it can't be seen."

They were turning off into a country road, and Montague sank back and
laughed till the tears ran down his cheeks. "Is that a common trick?"
he asked.

"Quite," said the other. "Mrs. Robbie has a trough of mud in their
garage, and her driver sprinkles the tag every time before she goes
out. You have to do something, you know, or you'd be taken up all the
time."

"Have you ever been arrested?"

"I've only been in court once," said Oliver. "I've been stopped a dozen
times."

"What did they do the other times--warn you?"

"Warn me?" laughed Oliver. "What they did was to get in with me and
ride a block or two, out of sight of the crowd; and then I slipped them
a ten-dollar bill and they got out."

To which Montague responded, "Oh, I see!"

They turned into a broad macadamized road, and here were more autos,
and more dust, and more racing. Now and then they crossed a trolley or
a railroad track, and here was always a warning sign; but Oliver must
have had some occult way of knowing that the track was clear, for he
never seemed to slow up. Now and then they came to villages, and did
reduce speed; but from the pace at which they went through, the
villagers could not have suspected it.

And then came another adventure. The road was in repair, and was very
bad, and they were picking their way, when suddenly a young man who had
been walking on a side path stepped out before them, and drew a red
handkerchief from his pocket, and faced them, waving it. Oliver
muttered an oath.

"What's the matter?" cried hi