horns, a dazzling instant of intense illumination, then a crash as
the inside mud-guards met. Merkle's car seemed to leap into the
air; there was a report of an exploding tire; Lorelei felt a
sickening sense of insecurity, and found herself hanging, bruised
and breathless, across the back of the driving-seat. The
automobile was bucking and bumping, as if the pavement had been
turned into a corduroy road; then it came to a pause, half in the
ditch. Merkle was jammed into an awkward coil on the floor of the
tonneau, but raised himself, swearing softly. The other car held
to its course, and whizzed onward, leaving in its wake a drunken
shout of mockery and defiance.

The catastrophe had taken but an instant. The three were alone,
and their machine disabled almost in a breath. Merkle inquired
anxiously if Lorelei were hurt; the chauffeur ran after the
offending car, yelling anathemas into the night. He returned
slowly, mopping his face, which had been cut by fragments from the
shattered windshield.

"Joy-riders," he muttered. "They wouldn't give way, and threw me
into those rails."

"Narrow shave, that. I wonder we weren't all killed." Merkle eyed
the car's crumpled mud-guard and running-board, then directed his
driver to ascertain the extent of the damage. The motor was still
throbbing, but a brief examination disclosed a broken steering-
knuckle and a bent axle in addition to an injured wheel.

"I'm terribly sorry, Miss Knight; but I'll have to send for
another car," apologized Merkle.