The West Virginian. [volume] (Fairmont, W. Va.) 1914-1974, 1922-09-26
Continued from our Last Issue)


a gilmpsegof startled faces was
ali they had! Jules touched the
head light switch and opened the
exhaust Above the roaring Of the
latter Lanyard fancled he could
hear q faint rafting sound. He
lookd back and smiled grlmly.
Sharp short flames Of orange. AMI
scarlet were stabblng the dark
mess. Somebody had opened fire
With an automatic pistol :. =.
sheer waste OF ammunitlon!
The pace waxed terrific on a
road Ike so many roads Of France
apparently intermlnable and
straight. And yet, long before the
road turned Lanyard, staring
aatern asltie kpelt on the rear seat
With arms crossed on the folded
top saw the two white eyes Of the
gray ear swing into view and start
"a pursuit. Quick work, he called
He crawled forward and COM
municated his news.
Don't ease up unless you have
TO- he couneeled; don't think
NE dare give them an inch"
Back at his post Of observation,
he watched hoping against hope.
while the car lunged and tore like
mad thing through the night,
snoring up grades, screaming down
them; drumming across the levels.
ciattering wildly through villages
and hamlets. His heart sank as
minute succeeded minute, mile fol.
lowed mile, and ever the lights Of
the.purshtng car, lost to sight from
time 10 time, reppearcd with Il
brighter, fiercer glow, aud convlc-
ton forced itself home that they
were being gradually but surely
oyerhauled
He took this intelligence to the
esrIof Jules. The chauffeur answer
edlonly with a worried shake OF his
head that said too plainly he was
doing his best extracting every
ounce Of power from the engine.
LESS than three hundred yards
separated pursued and pursuer rs
they raced out through open fields
once more. And foot by foot this
lead was being inexorably cut
down,
In the seat beside the driver Of
the gray car a man rose and,
steadying himself by holding onto
the Windshield, poured out the con.
tents Of an automatic, presumably
hoping to puncture the tires OF the
quarry. A bullet bored neat hole
through the Windshield between
the heads Of LANE Delorme and
Jules. The woman slipped down up
on the floor and Jules crouched
over the wheel, Lanyard fingered
his automatic but held It's fire.
Instead, he returned to the
lunch hamper and opened It. In
the bottom OF the basket lay six
pint bottles OF champagne, four
OF them unopened. Lanyard took
them to the rear seat-and found
the gray. car had drawn up to
within fifty yards Of its prey.
Making a pace better than seven
~ miles per hour, It would not
dare swerye.
The first empty bottle broke to
one side, the second squarely be-
tween the front wheels. He grasp
ed the first full bottle by the neck
and felt that its weight promised
more accuracy, but ducked before
attempting to throw 1t as volley
of shots sought to discourage him.
At the first lull he rose and cast
tbs bottle with the overland &C..
ton employed in grenade throw
ing. 1t crashed fairly beneath the
nearer forward wheel OF tho gray
car, but without effect. The lead
had been abridged to thirty yards;
in two minutes more 1t would be
nothing.
The fourth bottle went wild, but
the fifth exploded six inches in
front OF the offside wheel and its
Jagged fragments ripped out the
heart Of the tire. On the instant
of the accompanying blowout the
gray car SHE'D like frightened
horse and swerved off the road,
shurtling headlong into clump of
trees. The subsequent crash was
like the detonation OF u great bomb.
Deep shadows masked that tragedy
beneath the trees. Lanyard saw the
beam Of the headlights lift and
drill perpendicularly into the zen
18th before it was BACKED out.
He turned and yelled In the ear
of Jules: "Slow down! Take your
time! They've quit"
Lame Delorme rose from her
oramped position on the floor.
What has become Of them?"
Lanyard offered vague gesture.
~, .tried to climb u tree" he re-
piled YEARLY, and dropping back on
the rear seat began to worry the
cork out of the last pint.bottle Of
champagne.
He reckoned he had earned a
drink II anybody ever had.
CHAPTER BY1II
Buccaneering a la Mode.
Ten minutes aften their arrival
in Cherbourg, Lane, Lanyard and
Jules had darted up a gangplank
to the main deck of small steam
vessel, excessively neat and smart.
Lanyard stopped short with his
hand on the mahogany handrail.
IT say, LANE! haven't we STUN
hled into the wrong pew? This
Is g private yacht"
ut Is the little ship Of a dear
friend, monsieur, who generously
permits But patience! very
soon you shall know
a door had opened In the after