They had been followed by the yellow car again, but in going through Forest Park they had managed to give their trailer the slip among the intricate roads and bypaths, and had seen nothing of him for half an hour.

As soon as Ted had let Bud out, he hit up the speed, for the boulevard was comparatively free of traffic, and he fairly spun along to the western part of the city.

Cutting off the boulevard, he entered upon a side street to make a short cut to Dorrington’s house.

He noticed, as he turned into the side street, a light-colored car standing close to the curb as he passed, but so many cars were standing in front of houses here and there that he paid no attention to it.

But he had no sooner passed than the light-colored car glided after him noiselessly.  Ted’s own machine was making so much noise that he was not aware of the presence of another car until it was abreast of him, and so close that he could reach out his hand and touch it.

He thought the car was trying to pass him close to the curb, and started to turn out to give it more steerage room.

“Sheer off, there,” he called, “until I can get out of here.”

Suddenly something wet struck him in the face.  He gave a gasp, as a fearful suffocating pain filled his head and lungs, and he sank down into the bottom of the car, insensible.

At the same instant the man in the other car reached over and throttled the red car, then stopped his own.

Leaving his own car in the middle of the road, he leaped into the red car and gave her her full head.

In half an hour the red car had left the city and was speeding along a smooth country road in the moonlight.

Ted still lay in a stupor in the bottom of the car, and the only sound that came from him was an occasional gasp as his lungs, trying to recover from a shock, took in short gulps of air.

It was midnight before the red car slowed down.

Ahead in the moonlight rose the black bulk of a building.

It presented the appearance of a country house of some pretensions.

The house was dark.  Not a light appeared at any of the windows.

The red car approached it cautiously, running into the deep shadow cast by a high brick wall.  A dog on the other side of the wall barked a warning.

The man in the red car whistled softly in a peculiar way.

A window was raised somewhere, and the whistle was answered by another.

In a few minutes there was the sound of a man walking on a graveled path, then the creak of rusty iron and a gate swung open.

“All right?” asked a voice at the gate.

“You bet.  Got them both,” answered the man in the red machine.

“Bully for you.  Run her in.”

The red machine, with Ted still lying in the bottom, ran into a large yard, and the gate was closed again, and the car was stopped in front of the house.