To which Montague responded, "Oh, I see!"

They turned into a broad macadamized road, and here were more autos,
and more dust, and more racing. Now and then they crossed a trolley
or a railroad track, and here was always a warning sign; but Oliver
must have had some occult way of knowing that the track was clear,
for he never seemed to slow up. Now and then they came to villages,
and did reduce speed; but from the pace at which they went through,
the villagers could not have suspected it.

And then came another adventure. The road was in repair, and was
very bad, and they were picking their way, when suddenly a young man
who had been walking on a side path stepped out before them, and
drew a red handkerchief from his pocket, and faced them, waving it.
Oliver muttered an oath.

"What's the matter?" cried his brother.

"We're arrested!" he exclaimed.

"What!" gasped the other. "Why, we were not going at all."

"I know," said Oliver; "but they've got us all the same."

He must have made up his mind at one glance that the case was
hopeless, for he made no attempt to put on speed, but let the young
man step aboard as they reached him.

"What is it?" Oliver demanded.