The staccato drumming of the exhaust
echoed along the hillside. Overland's silk hat shone bravely in the sun.
Beside the outlaw was the figure of a woman. Tenlow foresaw
complications and muttered profanely.
Down the next ditch rolled the car, rocking to the unevenness of the
mountain road. Overland opened the throttle, the machine shot forward,
and in a few seconds drew up abreast of the deputy.
"Thank you so much, Mr. Summers," said Louise, stepping from the car.
"How are you, Mr. Tenlow."
"How'do, Miss Lacharme."
"Good-bye, Mr. Summers. I enjoyed the ride very much."
"Just a minute--" began the deputy.
"Where's my pony, Collie? He didn't get away, did he?"
"No, ma'am. Mr. Tenlow 'requisitioned' him. Thought I'd wait till you
came along so I could explain."
"Requisitioned my pony! What do you mean?"
"It's this way, Miss Lacharme. That man there in the machine is wanted.
He--"
"What has that to do with my pony, please?"
"I guess you know who he is. I figured he was layin' to get away on that
pony."
"You want to go back to school, pardner, and learn to figure correct,"
said Overland, his foot on the accelerator pedal of the throbbing car.
"One minus one is nothin'.
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