TAKE my car!” called the Secretary of State, as Brett and Douglas started up the street on a run. They turned and rejoined the Secretary as the latter’s , attracted by the , hastened out of the garden, where he had gone to get a glass of water.  
The three men sprang into the machine, and in a few seconds were off. They swung into Wisconsin Avenue and sped on up that thoroughfare. The avenue was almost at that hour, and the Sunday quiet was only broken by the whirr of their car as it gained headway. Far in the distance they could Thornton’s motor, and, in to Brett’s order, the chauffeur increased his speed.
 
On and on they went. A bicycle policeman shouted at them as they whizzed by and, clambering on his machine, started in pursuit. They passed a crowded car, and the passengers stared at their mad speed. They reached the of Georgetown and the more open country beyond. They gained on the car ahead of them, and Brett shouted aloud with the joy of the chase as they drew nearer. They passed the , cut across Massachusetts Avenue extended, just shaving several other , the startled drivers thereof wasting their breath in sending endless curses after them. They swept past the Cathedral Close and continued their race along the Rockville pike.
 
As they approached the River Road they saw Thornton turn his car, scarcely reducing his speed, and cut across the road. It was a dangerous corner at any time, and as the front wheels made the turn the body of the car slued around. There was a grinding, splintering crash as the car struck one of the tall poles supporting the overhead trolley wires, and the big machine turned turtle.
 
Brett’s chauffeur put on a final burst of speed, and the leaped madly down the road. A cry of horror broke from the three men as a tongue of flame shot up from the overturned car ahead of them.
 
“By Heavens! the gasolene has ignited!” Douglas. He was on the running board when the car slowed down near Thornton’s motor. The latter was a mass of flames. Douglas sprang to the ground, and the others followed him. “Get some fence rails,” he directed. “We must try and lift the car so that Thornton can crawl out.”
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