PETER FINDS A WAY


"What's all this?" asked Mr. Swiper, as the car came to a stop before
the rope.

With hand shaking and heart thumping, but borne up by a towering
resolve, Peter took his stand beside one of the front wheels. "The--the
road is--it's closed," he said, his voice trembling. The hand which held
the knife stole below the shiny mud-guard and rested on the smooth,
unyielding rubber. "The road is closed," he repeated.

Mr. Swiper climbed down out of the car, muttering an oath. He looked
apprehensively back along the road and being sure of no danger there he
crossed the rope and advanced a few yards along the road to inspect it.

Peter was in the grip of terrible fear, fear at his own boldness. His
whole form trembled. He did not stop to think, he knew that if he were
going to do anything effectual it must be in those few brief moments.
There are many ways to cripple an auto without damaging it, but Peter
knew nothing of autos except that they went by gasoline.

In an emergency he would have slashed a tire even while the machine
moved. Now that he had a little time in which to think he hurried behind
the auto and crawling beneath it turned on the outlet of the gas tank.
He knew that the tank was in back and that there must be a pipe leading
from it. He had intended to wrench the thin pipe away, when his groping,
trembling fingers stumbled on the outlet cock. This he turned on with as
much terror as if he were setting fire to the universe.