of dust flung over both officers. “The jedge alwus tucks on an additional ten for that trick. Go it, you gay birds! The faster you drive, the higher you’ll bounce when you hit the bumps. Come on, Silas! Deputy Newberry’ll have that gay pair collared in two shakes of a lamb’s tail.”

If the defiant autoists fancied they were to escape the clutches of the speed regulators in that easy manner, they soon realized their error. Farther on toward the village, running the full width of the road, were a series of artfully arranged ridges and hollows calculated to give a severe shaking up to the passengers of any motor car proceeding at a speed exceeding four or five miles an hour.

When this particular car struck those speed-killers, the two occupants were shot into the air with great violence. Coming down, the car seemed to meet them coming up, and the second and third bounces were worse than the first. Indeed, it was little short of remarkable that the florid-faced passenger succeeded in staying in the car at all. The driver, clinging desperately to the wheel, had a better chance, although he found it extremely difficult. And ahead of them the road undulated for a distance of several rods, like miniature waves of the sea.

“Ugh! Woogh! Woosh!” spluttered the older man, clutching wildly at the bucking car. “What—in—Halifax! Shut her—unk!—down, Hitchens! Stop her!”

Hitchens struggled to obey, finally succeeding in throwing the clutch and jamming on the brake. The wheels, locked, slid with a grinding sound that meant money in the pocket of some tire manufacturer, the car bobbed and hobbled over the ragged places, and the pursuing cloud of dust swooped down over them. When the dust settled a little and they could catch their breath again, they beheld a formidable, satisfied-looking man calmly mounting the right-hand running board.

“I’m the deputy sheruff of this town,” announced the individual who had boarded them. “And you are took up for breaking the speed limit and defyin’ two regler authorized officers of the law.”

 CHAPTER VDISPENSING JUSTICE. 

CHAPTER V

The driver bristled with indignation.

“It’s an outrage!” he cried. “We must get to Albion in time to catch the three-forty train. You can’t stop us.”

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