“Who hired you to waylay Flash and me if it wasn’t Rascomb?” demanded Doyle. “He recommended you as a driver.”
The chauffeur glared at his three questioners, refusing to speak.
“You know what a charge of kidnapping means in this state,” reminded the Major. “A life sentence.”
An expression of fear came over the chauffeur’s face. He began to tremble.
“Now if you come clean—tell us everything you know—you may get off with a lighter sentence,” the Major went on. “But if Rascomb makes good his escape, you’ll be the one to take the rap.”
“This is the first job I’ve ever done for him,” the chauffeur whined. “My orders were to let you all escape in the morning.”
“What became of the papers stolen from me?” Major Hartgrove asked.
“You’re lying,” accused the Major. “Has he gone to Melveredge Field?”
“Not Rascomb! He’s flying to Mexico tonight.”
“Flying!” exclaimed Flash. “In his own plane?”
“Yeah. At the hotel I heard him telephone a man by the name of Fleur. He told him to be at the airport by five o’clock.”
“Rascomb must have meant his own private field,” Flash said, looking at his watch. “It’s fifteen after three now. But we still have a chance to stop him.”
“How far are we from Excelsior City?” asked the Major.
“Forty-seven miles,” the chauffeur informed.
“Let’s get started,” Flash urged tersely. “We haven’t a minute to lose.”
Major Hartgrove untied the chauffeur’s feet and they forced the man to walk back to the road where the car had been left. Flash slid behind the wheel.
As they rode through the night at a furious pace, Doyle and Major Hartgrove continued to question their prisoner. They soon satisfied themselves that he knew almost nothing about Rascomb’s past.
“I only met the guy yesterday,” he insisted. “Rascomb offered me a chance to pick up some easy money. He let on he wanted to play a joke on some friends of his. I was to drive the car. Until tonight I didn’t have no idea I was getting mixed up in a kidnapping, and maybe worse.”
“What do you mean—worse?” the Major inquired.
“Well, I don’t want to have any hand in letting an innocent man be killed. That’s why I’m spilling everything I know. Rascomb planted one of his men at Melveredge Field. He has it fixed so some poor guy will get killed tomorrow when they test out a parachute.”