chance to dash away, and escape, but that load of hay was in the
path. He noted that it was now quite near, but the thieves paid
no attention to it.

Tom might have reversed the power, and sent his machine
backward, but he could not see to steer it if he went in that
direction, and he would soon have gone into the ditch. There was
nothing to do save to hand over the cash, it seemed.

Mr. Damon had the bag raised from the car, and the leader of
the thieves was reaching up for it, when there came a sudden
interruption.

From the load of hay there sounded a fusillade of pistol shots,
cracking out with viciousness. This was instantly followed by the
appearance of three men who came running from around the load of
hay, down the road toward the thieves. Each man carried a
pitchfork, and as they ran, one of the trio shouted:

"Right at 'em, boys! Jab your hay forks clean through the
scoundrels! By Heck, I guess we'll show 'em we know how t' tackle
a hold-up gang as well as the next fellow! Right at 'em now!
Charge 'em! Stick your forks right through 'em!" Again there
sounded a fusillade of pistol shots.

The thieves turned as one man, and glanced at the relief so
unexpectedly approaching. They gave one look at the three
determined looking farmers, with their sharp, glittering
pitchforks, and then, without a word, they turned and fled,
leaping into the bushes that lined the roadway. The underbrush