With a clatter the engine turned over and began to race.
Closer came the bandits, their car slowing down as it approached.
Jack leaned far over the windshield, his weapon leveled at Remedios.
"Up on the hood," he shrieked. "Up with you, or I'll shoot you full of
holes."
Remedios threw himself sprawlingly over the hood.
The bandits' car had slowed almost to a stop, four or five lengths
away. Frank released the hand brake, pressed the clutch into low with
his foot, and shot ahead.
Shifting the clutch into high, Frank opened the throttle wide and the
old rattletrap seemed fairly to leap ahead, its wheels spurning the
ground. The lights of the other car which had theretofore seemed
dimmed were switched to full brightness. Before the blinding glare in
his eyes, Frank involuntarily ducked his head.
As his eyes left the road, the car swerved. A shot rang out from the
car of the bandits, ripping high and doing no damage.
"Look out, Frank. Swing her over," cried Jack in alarm.
Shouts of panic rose from the car of the bandits, too.
Too late.
There was a crash, the flivver lurched, then sped on. As rapidly as
possible Frank brought it to a stop and then stood up to look back and
view the damage.
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