" he smiled. "Perfectly logical. There's a
nasty bump at the bridge and he naturally didn't want to jar Mrs.
Felderson."

"So he turned into the ditch and pitched her out on her head instead,"
I jeered. "That's all poppy-cock. I've taken that bridge at full
speed a hundred times without a jar."

"It's immaterial anyway," he snapped, frowning at me. "You can't make
any fool mystery out of it. The point is that Mr. Felderson put on his
brakes rapidly, perhaps for a dog or a rabbit, and skidded into the
ditch."

"It's not immaterial!" I burst out angrily. "There was a real reason
for his putting his brakes on rapidly. He was afraid of hitting
something, or being hit himself. Who was the driver of that other car?"

"The son of one of the biggest men in the state, Karl Schreiber."

"Karl Schreiber?" I cried. "The son of the German Socialist, who was
put in jail for dodging the draft?" I grabbed him by the arm. "Quick,
man! Who were the others with him?"

Robinson gazed at me with a stupid frown.

"Two reporters from _The Sun_, a fellow by the name of Pederson, Otto
Metzger and that Russian, Zalnitch, who just got out of prison."

"Zalnitch!" I yelled exultantly.

Zalnitch! The man Jim had sent to prison and who had threatened
revenge. Metzger, who had been his accomplice all along. Schreiber,
who hated Jim and all the virile Americanism that he stood for.
Pederson and the two reporters I didn't know, but they were no doubt of
the same vile breed. A fine gang of cutthroats who would have liked
nothing better than to get rid of Jim. They probably saw his big
search-light, that makes his car easily recognizable, and realized
their opportunity had come. They had driven toward him as though to
smash into him and made Jim take the ditch to get out of the way. That
explained the sudden jamming on of his brakes that had caused him to
skid and overturn. All these thoughts passed through my mind as I
heard the names of the men in the black limousine.

"Inspector," I said, "I am fully convinced that the men in the black
limousine are responsible for my brother-in-law's accident."

"What makes you think that?" he demanded, eying me narrowly.

"Because all of them had reason to hate and fear my brother-in-law.
Zalnitch, since his release, has sworn he would get even with Mr.
Felderson for putting him in prison. Metzger felt the same way. As
for Schreiber, I'm sure if he could have manipulated that car