outside a blockhouse. The truck was rolling straight toward them.
Hearing the shouts of alarm, the two men turned and saw their danger.
Devers immediately jumped into the safety of the blockhouse, but Connel
stumbled and fell heavily. Tom's blood ran cold. He saw that the major
had struck his head against one of the receivers and he lay on the
ground, dazed and unable to move.

Tom jammed the accelerator of the tiny jet car to the floor and shot
ahead like a rocket. He was alongside the truck now, but the distance
between the huge machine and Connel was narrowing rapidly. Tom clenched
his teeth and urged the little car on faster. He knew that there was not
enough time for him to jump into the truck and pull the brake. There
was only one thing he could do.

Regaining his senses, Connel tried to crawl to safety, but there was no
time. He braced himself for what he knew would be instant death, and
then to his amazement he saw Tom's jet car swerve sharply in front of
the runaway truck.

[Illustration: _Tom swerved the jet car in front of the runaway truck_]

There was a wrenching crash of metal, a shrill scream of skidding tires,
climaxed by a thunderous roar. After that, deathly silence.

For a second Connel stood frozen in horror, staring at the overturned
truck and the tangle of twisted metal that was the jet car. Then he
lunged forward with a frantic cry.

"Corbett! Corbett!"