The chains hindered, but the floor sloped to the front a
trifle, which helped. In a moment he had the satisfaction of
feeling the big car give, then roll slowly ahead. The front
wheels dipped down over the threshold, and Bud stepped upon the
running board, took the wheel, and by instinct more than by sight
guided her through the doorway without a scratch. She rolled
forward like a black shadow until a wheel jarred against the
block, whereupon he set the emergency brake and got off,
breathing free once more. He picked up the block and carried it
back, quietly closed the big doors and locked them, taking time
to do it silently. Then, in a glow of satisfaction with his work,
he climbed slowly into the car, settled down luxuriously in the
driver's seat, eased off the brake, and with a little lurch of
his body forward started the car rolling down the driveway.

There was a risk, of course, in coasting out on to the street
with no lights, but he took it cheerfully, planning to dodge if
he saw the lights of another car coming. It pleased him to
remember that the street inclined toward the bay. He rolled past
the house without a betraying sound, dipped over the curb to the
asphalt, swung the car townward, and coasted nearly half a block
with the ignition switch on before he pushed up the throttle, let
in his clutch, and got the answering chug-chug of the engine.
With the lights on full he went purring down the street in the
misty fog, pleased with himself and his mission.



CHAPTER FOUR. HEAD SOUTH AND KEEP GOING