Never once did he feel the car slacken its pace, until, with a grind of brakes, it stopped suddenly.
"Get out," said a voice.
John Lexman threw off the cover and leapt out and as he did so the car turned and sped back the way it had come.
For a moment he thought he was alone, and looked around.

Far away in the distance he saw the grey bulk of Princetown Gaol.

It was an accident that he should see it, but it so happened that a ray of the sun fell athwart it and threw it into relief.
He was alone on the moors! Where could he go?
He turned at the sound of a voice.
He was standing on the slope of a small tor.

At the foot there was a smooth stretch of green sward.

It was on this stretch that the people of Dartmoor held their pony races in the summer months.