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Page 86
"Mr. Potter, I bring you a message from your friends!"
"What is it?"
"It is this! 'The money is safe!'"
"Good!" cried the millionaire. "Now I don't care what these
scoundrels do!"
"Father! Father!" cried Grace.
"Stop that machine!" yelled Larry to the chauffeur of the green
car.
"You can't make me!" retorted the man.
"Jump into our car!" cried Fritsch to Mr. Potter. "You can do it!"
The two machines were close together, and so evenly were they
running that they seemed to be standing still, side by side. The
millionaire arose and endeavored to get out of the tonneau, and into
that of the auto in which sat his daughter.
"No, you don't!" exclaimed one of the men beside him, and he took
hold of Mr. Potter.
"Let me go!" called the rich man. "I'm not afraid of you now.
There's no longer any reason for me to remain in hiding!"
"You can't go until you sign those papers!" cried another of the
men.
"Stop that car!" shouted Larry again.
"Let's see you make me!" was the impudent retort of the man at the
wheel.
"I'll make you!" declared the young reporter.
He gave a quick motion to the steering wheel. Then he shoved the
levers over, and pressed down the pedal that cut out the muffler and
slightly relieved the strain on the motor. Fritsch's car shot ahead.
Larry steered it directly in front of the green machine, and kept
just far enough in advance to avoid a collision.
"Get out of the way!" shouted the driver of the emerald car.
"Now I guess you'll stop!" retorted the young reporter.
The road suddenly narrowed. Larry gradually slowed up his car. There
was no room to pass, and the other machine had to slacken up also.
Larry suddenly shut off his power and put on the brakes. His machine
came to a gradual stop. There was a bump behind and the other had
collided with it, but not enough to cause any damage.
"There! I guess you'll stop now!" exclaimed Larry, as he leaped from
his seat and hurried back to the green car.
But the men did not await his coming. With a shout to his companions
the chauffeur of the rear auto leaped out. The others followed his
example, leaving Mr. Potter alone in the automobile.
"Father! Father!" cried Grace.
"Is this really you, Mr. Potter?" asked the reporter, hardly able to
believe that he had found the missing millionaire.
"That's who I am!" exclaimed the man whom Larry had sought so long.
Mr. Potter entered the other machine and clasped Grace into his
arms. "I'm back from my enforced exile," he went on. "Now you can
send the story to your paper."
"I must get to a telephone!" cried Larry, his newspaper instincts to
the fore again, now that he had successfully covered his special
assignment.
"Get back into my car," suggested Fritsch. "Dere is a telephone at
de top of der hill. I'll drive you now so long as de race is ofer!"
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