It was odd how quickly his mind worked in his desperate predicament.

His eyes stung and his throat pained him and he knew that he had won only the chance of a race with death.

But what more does a scout want than a fighting chance?
His wits, spurred by the emergency, were now alert and he recalled that the men who had stolen the car had rolled one door shut and slammed another.

So perhaps the rolling door had been barred inside.
Where the small door was he did not know, and there was no time now to make a groping exploration of the sides.

The rolling door must be in back of the car, he knew that.
He was dizzy now and on the point of falling.