Highway, the driver looking keenly at the barricade, then stopping his
car with a sudden jerk and swinging out. He turned a pocket flash on
the big card board Billy had erected, its daubed letters still wet and
blurring into the pasteboard. He looked a bit quizzical over the
statement, "RODE FLOODED, BRIGE DOWN," because he happened to know
there was no bridge and nothing to flood the road for several miles
ahead. He examined the barricade carefully, even down to the broken
glass in the road, then deliberately, swiftly, with his foot kicked
away the glass, cleared a width for his car, and jumping in backed up,
turned and started slowly down the condemned road to investigate.
Something was wrong down the highway, and the sooner it was set right
the better. There was one thing, he wished he had his gun with him, but
then--! And he swung on down for two miles, going faster and faster,
seeing nothing but white still road, and quiet sleeping trees, with
looming mountains against the sky everywhere. Then, suddenly, across
the way in the blare of his lights a white face flashed into view, and
a body, lying full across the road, with a bicycle flung to one side
completing the block. He brought his car to a quick stand and jumped
out, but before he could take one step or even stoop, someone caught
him from behind, and something big and dark and smothering was flung
over his head. A heavy blow seemed to send him whirling, whirling down
into infinite space, with a long tongue of living fire leaping up to
greet him.

"Beat it, Kid, and keep yer face shut!" hissed Pat into Billy's ear, at
the same time stuffing a bill into his hand.

Billy had just sense enough left to follow the assisting kick and roll
himself out of the road, with a snatch at his machine which pulled it
down out of sight. He had a secret feeling that he was "yellow" after