But it was too late. A moment later Tom felt something strike him on
the hip, and he went down in the dust.

"Put on the brakes!"

"You've hit someone, Sam!"

"Pull up!"

These cries followed the striking of Tom. There was a screech from the
brake bands and the car came to a quick stop.

"You knocked him down," someone said.

"I don't care. Served him right. No business to get in my way!"
snapped Sam.

"Are you hurt, Tom?" asked Bruce anxiously, as he bent over his friend.
"Were you hit hard?"

Tom's head cleared. It had struck rather heavily as he went down, yet
it was but a passing faintness. He struggled to his feet, with the aid
of Bruce, and some of the lads who leaped from the auto.

"I--I guess I'm all right," Tom answered slowly. "What happened?"

"Sam Heller's car struck you," said Bruce quietly. "And it was on the
wrong side of the road. Where's Heller?" he asked of some of that
lad's friends.