rage and determined to catch Dick at all costs, he had acted with wonderful promptness. His first step was to send out cars loaded with armed policemen to block all three roads leading from Langengrad so that Dick’s motor should not get away. Had he been found a few moments earlier Dick and Yvette must have been hopelessly trapped. But the delay of a few minutes had given them a priceless advantage.

Looking back as the big car came swiftly on, Dick caught the gleam of rifle barrels in the moonlight. His plan was swiftly made.

At the top of a steep slope, where the road made a sharp curve and dipped into a small depression, Dick bade Yvette halt. Blessing Fédor’s foresight, he took the rifle from the car and in the shadow flung himself down on the grass bordering the road. For five hundred yards below him the road stretched in a smooth unbroken descent.

As the pursuing car came into sight Dick took careful aim and fired, aiming not at the men, but at the engine of the car. His first shot was low, and he saw a burst of flame as the explosive bullet struck the road a few yards short of the car.

His second shot got home. The big car lurched, slewed round, and dashing into the side of the road, toppled over. Evidently the explosive bullet had wrecked the steering gear.

He leapt into the car again, but the danger was not over. Checked by the steep rise the big car was only going slowly, and the men inside had evidently escaped unhurt. And they were clearly well led, for a dozen of them dashed into the road and a volley of shots rattled round Dick as he dashed for the Mohawk.

For the moment, racing down the hill, they were safe. But Dick saw, with inward trepidation, that a little farther on the road rose again and they would be a clear mark for their pursuers in the bright moonlight.

His fears were justified. Again a volley of shots rang out and bullets pattered round them. One smashed the wind screen, a second went through Yvette’s hat. But they were untouched, and raced on. A moment more and they would be safe. Then another volley rang out and Dick felt a stinging pain in his left shoulder. He had been hit by one of the last shots fired!

They were now out of range and Yvette sent the Mohawk along as fast as she dared until, a few miles farther, she left the high road and drove across the smooth upland turf to the shelter of a small wood where they could convert the car into the aeroplane.

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