With four rifles aimed at him, at that short, point-blank range,
it would seem that Jim's last moment had come.
Yet at that instant the sound of an approaching motor ear was heard.
Then the car, moving at twelve miles an hour mounted the crest at a
point less than seventy yards from where the four ambushed men lay.
Joe Timmins caught sight of them.
"Take the wheel!" muttered Timmins, forcing Parkinson's nearer
hand to the wheel.
In an instant Joe was upon his feet, drawing his revolver. He
fired at the men in ambush, but a lurch of the car on the rough
ground destroyed his aim.
"Dolph Gage and his rascals at the ridge," bellowed Joe, in a
fog-horn voice, pointing.
Jim Ferrers dropped to the ground, hugging it flat. Harry followed
suit. Tom Reade hesitated an instant, then away he flew at a
dead run.
Close to a tree Tom stopped, thrusting right hand in among the
bushes. Up and down his hand moved.
"Shoot and duck!" snarled Dolph, in a passion because of their
having been discovered.
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