"Perhaps we can get away from them--we're
ahead, anyhow!"
The motorcycle leaped forward now, but from behind they could still
hear the barking of the exhaust of the other machine, and the excited
cries of the Germans. Luck was with them, however, for just at that
most critical of moments something must have gone wrong with the
pursuing machine. The noise of its motor ceased behind them. The
shouting continued, but only one voice was raised. Plainly the other
man was busy. While their luck held, Arthur pushed the machine at the
best speed he could get out of it. And it was well that he did, since
the trouble with the other motor was soon mended. It sprang into
sputtering life again behind them. But now they had a good lead and
were racing on toward the forts, toward the circle of wide swinging
searchlights.
"How are we getting on, Paul?" asked Arthur. "Are we gaining?"
"I'm afraid--no, we're not. They're coming along awfully fast. That
must be a much more powerful machine than this."
"I don't think it's that. I'm awfully afraid that our gasoline is
running low! That German must have ridden a long way. Probably he
expected to fill his tank back there! There's so much noise that I'm
not sure, but I'm afraid one cylinder is missing. That's what is
making us slower."
Over their heads now a bullet sang out sharply. There could be no
doubt about it at all, now; the other motorcycle was rapidly making up
lost ground.
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