"They are following us? You are SURE?"
"Yes," said Jimmie Dale.
The chauffeur laughed again in that mirthless, savage way.
"Lean over here, where I can talk to you!" he rasped out. "The game's
up, as far as I am concerned, I guess! But there's a chance for you.
They don't know you in this."
"Give her more speed--or dodge into a cross street!" suggested Jimmie
Dale coolly. "They haven't got us yet, by a long way!"
The other shook his head.
"It's not only that cab behind," he answered, through set lips. "You
don't know what we're up against. If they're really after us, there's
a trap laid in every section of this city--the devils! It's the package
they want. Thank God for the presentiment that made me leave it behind!
I was going back for it, you understand, if I was satisfied that we
weren't followed. Listen! There's a chance for you--there's none for me.
That package--remember this!--no one else knows where it is, and it's
life and death to the one who sent you here. It's in Box 428 at--My God,
LOOK! Look there!" he yelled, and, with a wrench at the wheel, sent the
taxi lurching and staggering for the car tracks in the centre of the
street.
The scene, fast as thought itself, was photographing itself in every
detail upon Jimmie Dale's brain. From the cross street ahead, one from
each corner, two motor cars had nosed out into Broadway, blocking the
road on both sides.
Pages:
425
426
427
428
429
430
431
432
433
434
435
436
437
438
439
440
441
442
443
444
445
446
447
448
449