Down the street in front of the Wernbergs' house they could see men
getting into the two automobiles. Presently the whirr of the motors came
to their ears and the two cars started. One came towards them and the
other went in the opposite direction.

"Which one shall we follow?" whispered Bob.

"Let's follow the one going the other way."

They rolled out of the driveway and started down the street. As they
turned into the avenue the first car passed them, a gray roadster
bespeaking power and speed in its every detail. Two men were seated in
it. Bob and Hugh obtained a fleeting glimpse of them as they flashed by.
The tail light of the car they intended to follow showed a dim, red spot
far down the street.

"Speed her up a little, Bob," urged Hugh. "We don't want to lose them."

"We can't keep too close to them either," said Bob. "Besides, my thumb
and forefinger are pretty sore from that fuse burn and it's hard to grip
the wheel."

"Mine are sore too," said Hugh. "Put on gloves."

"I haven't any with me."

"I have; take mine."

Still watching the small red dot ahead of them Bob managed to slip on
Hugh's right-hand glove. It was a great help to him in driving.