Diminish pressure--diminish speed.

The curve of this--dashboard--here sends the wind shooting up over our heads--like a windshield.

What's behind you ?" I flashed the light back.

The mechanism on which we were ended in another wall exactly similar to that over which O'Keefe crouched.
"Well, we can't fall out, anyway," he laughed.

"Wish to hell I knew where the brakes were! Look out!" We dropped dizzily down an abrupt, seemingly endless slope; fell--fell as into an abyss--then shot abruptly out of the blackness into a throbbing green radiance.