Mr. Swift grinned sympathetically and opened the car door. “All right, son. I hope your confidence isn’t misplaced, but I’ll see what I can do.”
While Mr. Swift and Ted went back inside, Tom and Bud scouted around cautiously for signs of anyone spying on the house. All seemed quiet and normal.
The only other cars parked on the street were empty.
Fifteen minutes later Mrs. Spring and Ray came out, accompanied by Ted and Mr. Swift, who were carrying the suitcases. The boys loaded these into the convertible’s trunk, then Tom assisted Mrs. Spring into the back seat. The slender, dark-haired woman wore an anxious, tense look.
“I do hope I’ve made the right decision,” she fretted.
“I’m sure you have,” said Tom reassuringly. “Believe me, you and Ray will be perfectly safe at Bluejay Lake.”
“Sure we will,” Ray spoke up stoutly. “Boy, it’ll be fun going up there!” He climbed in be-A NIGHT OF PERIL 51
side her, and Ted took the front seat with Bud.
As the red convertible pulled away from the curb, Tom followed close behind with his father. Cutting straight across town, they took the road leading to Swift Enterprises, which lay on the outskirts of Shopton.
“Lights behind us, Dad,” said Tom tersely, glancing at the rear-view mirror.
As Mr. Swift turned to look, the car approached rapidly, then swung to the left to pass. Hitting at least sixty miles an hour, the car roared alongside, then swung broadside into the path of Bud’s convertible!
Bud slammed on the brakes. Too late! With a deafening impact of crumpling metal, the red convertible plowed into the sedan, which had stopped dead ahead.