Perhaps the bright idea hadn’t been so bright after all; for how was Cabot, crack shot that he was, to expect that he could hit such a swiftly moving target as an ant in a kerkool? Once again he took up his weary march. He rounded the turn ahead. And there lay the kerkool, wrecked beside the road. The shot actually had taken effect after all! But what good was a _wrecked_ kerkool? Would it not merely direct the attention of the Formians to the fact that one of their enemies was at large in this vicinity? It would; that was the second part of the plan. So Cabot lay down beside the wrecked car and awaited further developments. Developments were not long in developing, for soon another kerkool stopped to investigate. Its occupants were two ant men, armed with but a single rifle to the two of them. One dismounted, leaving the rifle in the car, and pattered over to take a look at the wreck. Just about then Myles opened fire, but made the mistake of shooting first at the ant who was on the ground. The shot disabled the black antagonist, without killing him, and thus permitted him to radiate a warning to his companion, who, of course had not heard the revolver. Cabot, in turn, could not hear the radiated warning, so he merely surmised it, but he had learned fairly well to judge such matters during his three years on Poros. The driver of the kerkool quickly fired one shot in Cabot’s direction and threw on full speed ahead. But, with a leap, the earthman grabbed the rear end of the car and trailed out behind as it rapidly accelerated. And now they were deadlocked. By this time Cabot had secured a foothold, but was not able to clamber aboard without dropping his revolver. Nor did he dare to shoot, for even a momentary release of the control levers by the driver would have spelled a collision and death to them both. The driver, for his part, was driving so fast that, in spite of his six legs, he could not spare two of them to take another shot at his passenger. Nor did he dare slow down, for that would have given Cabot an opportunity to shoot at him. But the deadlock was to the ant’s advantage. Time was playing into his hands; for he knew, and Cabot sensed, that they were rapidly nearing a town, at which it would be an easy matter for the ant to turn the man over to the authorities. And then the great god coincidence sat into the game, in opposition to his old enemy, the god of time. A Formian pinqui, on guard at a cross-road, held up one paw as a signal to stop, for another kerkool was approaching from the left and had the right of way. The driver disregarded the signal and the pinqui fired. The next instant Cabot was at the levers. How he ever got there he does not know; but the fact remains that fate had forced him into a situation which he had not dared to face, and that somehow he had mastered the situation.