.
and they were out in the open at last--the plain stretching before
them--no turn to left or right--and the machine Achilles drove had no
equal in the country. But Achilles did not know his machine. Good or
bad, it must serve him and keep his men in sight--but not too near--not
to frighten them! They had turned now and were glancing back and
they spoke quickly. Then they looked again--at the flying and hatless
head--and saw suddenly, on behind it, the service car leap softly around
the corner into the white road. They looked again--and laughed. They
turned and dropped the matter. "Some damn fool with a stolen car."

XXVI

AND RACES FOR THE CLUE

Under the great bowl of sky, in the midst of the plain, the three cars
held their level way--three little racing dots in the big, clear place.
They kept an even course, swaying to the race on level wings that swept
the ground and rose to the low swale and passed beyond. Only the long
free line of dust marked their flight under the sun.

The men at the front, in the car ahead, did not look back again. They
had lost interest in the race pressing behind--most anxiously, they had
lost interest in it. They wished, with a fervent wish, that the two cars
driving behind them should pass them in a swirl of dust--and pass on out
of sight--toward the far horizon line that stretched the west. They were
only two market gardeners returning from business in the city. If they
drove a good car, it was to save time going and coming--not to race with
escaping fugitives and excited police. They had no wish to race with
excited police--fervently they had no wish for it--and they slackened
speed a little, drawing freer breath. Let the fellow pass them--and his
police with him--before they reached a little, white, peaceful house
that stood ahead on the plain. They did not look behind at justice
pursuing its prey... they had lost all interest in justice and in the
race. Presently, when justice should pass them, on full-spreading wing,
they would look up with casual glance, and note its flight over the far
line--out of sight in the distant west. But now they did not know of its
existence.

And Achilles, pressing fast, had a quick, clear sense of
mystery--something that brooded ahead--on the shining plain and the
little, white house and the car before him slackening speed. _Why_
should it slow down?--what was up? Cautiously he held his car, slowing
its waving gleam to the pace ahead and dart