The City of Fire - Page 29/221

Five minutes later another car, with a soft purring engine came up to

the Crossroads from Economy, slowed just a fraction as it crossed the

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

all in spite of his efforts, letting a guy get taken this way without

even a chance to put up a fight. Where was that gun? He reached his

hand into his pocket and was steadied by the feeling of the cold steel.

Then he knew that the men were in the car and were about to start. They

had dumped the owner into the back seat and were going to carry him off

somewhere. What were they going to do? He must find out. He was

responsible. He hadn't meant to let anything like this happen. If

everything wasn't going to be on the square he might have to get into

it yet. He must stick around and see.