The car lurched forward.
A cold terror swept young Van Vorst.
"What do you want with him ?" he called "Who are you ?" Over one shoulder the masked face glared at him.

Above the roar of the car the words of the driver were flung back.

"We're Secret Service from Washington," he shouted.

"He's from their embassy.

He's a German spy!" Leaping and throbbing at sixty miles an hour, the car vanished in a curtain of white, whirling dust..