shut in by banks of underbrush; as he drew nearer a figure stepped
out and stood in silhouette until his own lights picked it up. The
figure waved its arms, and called attention to the car behind--evidently
broken down. Here, then, the drama was to be played.

Gray brought his machine on at such a pace and so close to the man
in the road that the latter was forced to step aside, then he
swung it far to the right, brought it back with a quick twist of
the steering wheel, and killed his motor. He was now in the ditch
and outside the blinding glare of the opposing headlights; the
stalled machine was in the full illumination of his own lamps.

Contrary to Gray's expectations, the car in the road was empty and
the man who had hailed him was a stranger. As the latter
approached, he inquired:

"What's wrong?"

"Out of gas, I guess. Anyhow--I--" The speaker noted that there
was but one new arrival, where he had expected two, and the
discovery appeared to nonplus him momentarily. He stammered,
involuntarily he turned his head.

Gray looked in the same direction, but without changing his
position, and out of the corner of his eye he glimpsed a new
figure emerging from the shadows behind him. Very clever! But, at
least, his unexpected maneuver with his own car had made it
necessary for both men to approach him from the same side.

While the first stranger continued to mumble, Gray sat motionless,