The chauffeur let out a few notches
of speed.

"Smooth-running car," commented Mr. Farnum.

"Runs just as smoothly, sir, at sixty miles an hour," replied the man.

"When we get a little further out, you can us some of that," smiled
Mr. Farnum, contentedly.

"I will, sir."

"You boys afraid to go at sixty miles an hour?" asked the shipbuilder,
turning to face those in the tonneau.

"Scared to death," laughed Jack Benson, gleefully.

As soon as the chauffeur considered that he had reached a
little-enough-traveled part of the country road he let out the speed.

"My, but we're going some," called Farnum.

"Fifty miles," replied the chauffeur. "Now, I'll show you sixty."

The car seemed to leap forward. Then, it seemed to those in the tonneau
as though they were beating any speed ever reached by an express train.

Whizz-zz! It was wild, exhilarating--dangerous!

"Say!" gasped Farnum. "If--"

That was as far as he got. The forward end of his side of the car sank
to the ground. The car seemed trying to stand on its head.

Then it stopped, and all in it were hurled into the center of awful
disaster.

CHAPTER XIII

THE TRICK IS EASILY SEEN THROUGH

In the next instant all had settled.

There had been a brief moment in which the air around the wrecked auto
had seemed full of flying human beings.

Now, they lay by the road side in varying degrees of disaster.

The left front axle had broken, the wheel rolling some yards ere it
stopped.

Jacob Farnum, seated right over the axle, was hurled out, head first as
nearly as he could afterwards guess. How he avoided landing on his head
and sustaining a broken neck or shattered skull was one of those
miraculous things that no one can explain.

The chauffeur had plunged out over Farnum's head, alighting beyond the
shipbuilder. The chauffeur now lay writhing and groaning.

David Pollard landed first, on one wrist and his chest, a cry of anguish
escaping him.

Eph Somers lay in the road motionless. Jack and Hal fell against the
padded side of the car. Hal remained there during the next second, but
young Benson turned a half-somersault, lightly, landing in the road just
outside.

It was young Captain Jack who first got to his feet. Dazed for a few
moments, he rose slowly seeking for signs of injury.

"I--I believe I'm not hurt," he congratulated himself. "Thank heaven
for that, for there are others here who seem in need of the promptest