A window was suddenly let down; the voice of the professional man saying, "What's the matter?
We're not followed.

You are imperiling our lives by this speed," was answered only by, "Will some of ye throttle that d--d fool ?" from the driver, and the renewed fall of the lash.

The wayside trees appeared a solid plateau before them, opened, danced at their side, closed up again behind them,--but still they sped along.

Rushing down grades with the speed of an avalanche, they ascended again without drawing rein, and as if by sheer momentum; for the heavy vehicle now seemed to have a diabolical energy of its own.

It ground scattered rocks to powder with its crushing wheels, it swayed heavily on ticklish corners, recovering itself with the resistless forward propulsion of the straining teams, until the lights of Three Pine Station began to glitter through the trees.