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Rounding the turn in the brushed-out roadbed, he saw in the distance, down a long straightaway, a flash of yellow-Kincaid’s Model 35 Tho up to it

Kincaid reached under the red leather driver’s seat, pulled out a long-barreled revolver, and coolly fired three shots in rapid succession Bell dove for cover, the slugs whistling around hi behind a tree, he snapped off another shot Kincaid was in front of the car, trying to start hishi the starter crank with his right

Bell fired again It ca That was six shots He had one shot left before he had to replace the azine

Theas, one by one, the four gigantic cylinders boo wheel Bell was close enough now to see the fenders fluttering froh in the back and the canvas top was up, its s from the top All he could see of Kincaid was his hand when he reached out to grip the side-earshifter Too hard a shot to waste his last bullet on

The rattling, chugging noise dropped in pitch Thethe drive chain Bell put on a burst of speed, heedless of the rough ground The Tho sound sharpened to a hollow, authoritative snap as it accelerated up the cleared right-of-way Fast as a man Now fast as a horse

Bell ran after the yellow car He had one shot left in the Browning’s azine, no clear view of Kincaid, as hidden by the canvas top and the tires on back, and no ti like the wind, but the Tho away

Ahead of the Tho suddenly widened where the Southern Pacific right-of-way crossed the East Oregon Lumber Company’s muddy trail The Thomas swerved off the brushed-out bed onto the lumber trail and slowed as its wheels spun in softwith effort, its tires flinging earth and water, its exhaust pipe spewing smoke

Bell dreithin feet of the Thomas and jumped

He grabbed for the rearmost spare tire with his free hand and claers inside its rubber ri the traction of its rear wheels, the Thomas picked up speed

Boots dragging in the rabbed hold with both hands to work his way forward Swinging his feet for ht side of a trunk ht hold of a leather strap, which he used to pull hiside and onto the rear fender The wheel’s twelve ed under his weight, rubbing the tire The screech of metal on rubber alerted Kincaid to his presence

Kincaid instantly slammed on the brake to throw Bell off Bell ith thehis momentum carry hi levers, rabbed a brass tube that delivered oil to the chain drive Kincaid swung a o and fell As he did, he gripped a utility box bolted to the running board

Noas partly ahead of the rear wheel, which threatened to roll over him The chain, just inside the wheel, whizzed inches from his face He yanked his automatic out of his coat, reached in front of the wheel, and jammed the muzzle under the upper half of the chain The chain jaun into the teeth of the sprocket The automobile jerked hard and skidded on locked wheels

Kincaid disengaged the clutch The chain jued ahead Steering with his left hand, Kincaid swung the wrench It grazed Bell’s hat Bell clutched the utility box with his right arm, kept his left hooked over the fender, and pulled his throwing knife fro the wrench

Forced to let go before Kincaid shattered bone, Bell jabbed his knife into the sidewall of Kincaid’s tire The racing wheel ripped the knife out of Bell’s hand, and he fell to the road

The Thomas Flyer’s exhaust sounded a hollow snap as it picked up speed, crested the slope, and disappeared around a hairpin turn Bell rolled to his feet, covered in un He found his hat first and then the automatic, stripped it, blew off the azines for a fully loaded one He now had one slug chambered and six on call Then he discarded his coat, which was heavy withup the timber road after the Wrecker