He bent his strength upon one handle, and then said quite quietly-- "I am afraid it's no go." As he spoke, there swept round the corner a man rigid on his rushing horse, with the rush and rigidity of an arrow.

He had a smile that thrust out his chin as if it were dislocated.

He swept alongside of the stationary car, into which its company had crowded, and laid his hand on the front.

It was the Secretary, and his mouth went quite straight in the solemnity of triumph.
Syme was leaning hard upon the steering wheel, and there was no sound but the rumble of the other pursuers riding into the town.

Then there came quite suddenly a scream of scraping iron, and the car leapt forward.