He had a rather hazy idea of the
exact direction of the town and castle, but that he could find them
eventually he was sure.
The sight of the river and the bridge he was nearing suggested a
plan, and the ominous grating of the overheated motor warned him
that whatever he was to do he must do at once. As he neared the
bridge he reduced the speed of the car to fifteen miles an hour, and
set the hand throttle to hold it there. Still gripping the steering
wheel with one hand, he climbed over the left-hand door to the
running board. As the front wheels of the car ran up onto the bridge
Barney gave the steering wheel a sudden turn to the right, and
jumped.
The car veered toward the wooden handrail, there was a splintering
of stanchions, as, with a crash, the big machine plunged through
them headforemost into the river. Without waiting to give even a
glance at his handiwork Barney Custer ran across the bridge, leaped
the fence upon the right-hand side and plunged into the shelter of
the wood.
Then he turned to look back up the road in the direction from which
his pursuers were coming. They were not in sight--they had not seen
his ruse. The water in the river was of sufficient depth to
completely cover the car--no sign of it appeared above the surface.
Barney turned into the wood smiling. His scheme had worked well.
The occupants of the two cars following him might not note the
broken handrail, or, if they did, might not connect it with Barney
in any way.
Pages:
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257