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England, George Allan, 1877-1936

"The Air Trust"

"No woman--he!--runs this old boat while I'm aboard, see? Go
on, fire me! _I_ don't give--damn! But you don't run--car! Sit down! _I_
run car--New York or Hell--no matter which! _I_--"
Hurtling down the slope like a runaway comet, now wholly out of control,
the powerful gray car leaped madly at the turn.
Catherine, her heart sick at last with terror, caught a second's glimpse
of forest, on one hand; of a stone wall with tree-tops on some steep
abyss below, just grazing it, on the other. Through these trees she saw
a momentary flash of water, far beneath.
Then the leaping front wheels struck a cluster of loose pebbles, at the
bend.
Wrenched from the drunkard's grip, the steering wheel jerked sharply
round.
A skidding--a crash--a cry!
Over the roadway, vacant now, floated a tenuous cloud of dust and
gasoline-vapor, commingled.
In the retaining-wall at the left, a jagged gap appeared. Suddenly, far
below, toward the river, a crashing detonation shattered harsh echoes
from shore to shore.


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