ssible time Chick picked up his staff and
started swiftly for the point where he had seen Sparrer disappear, for
it was he who had first signaled.

Meanwhile Pat, Hal and the three members of the Blue Tortoise Patrol who
had started out with them were working with might and main at the scene
of the accident and in their hearts praying that help would reach them
speedily. It was one of those disasters which in these days have become
so common that often they receive no more than a paragraph or two in the
daily papers. Two automobiles had come together on a turn in a road at
this time of year little frequented, and the smaller of the two had
turned turtle. The other, a powerful roadster, had escaped with but
trifling damage and the driver of it had not even paused to ascertain
the results of the collision, but had thrown on full power and left the
scene at racing speed.

The accident had occurred at a point about one hundred yards from where
Pat and Sparrer were about to emerge from a thicket of bushes lining the
drive and at the sound of the crash they sprang out. An instant later a
big roadster tore past and they caught a fleeting glimpse of a strained
white face behind the big steering wheel and beyond, partly raised and
half turned to look back, a fur-coated figure, evidently that of a young
man. For just a second his face turned toward them, then hastily turned
away. But that brief glimpse was enough to show them that it bore the
stamp of guilty fear.

Pat confessed later that the whole thing was so sudden and so wholly
foreign to anything within his experience that he was too confused to
think or act quickly. Not so Sparrer. His life in the streets of New
York had made him no stranger to accidents of a more or less tragic
nature, and he had seen too many violators of the law seeking to escape
the consequences of their own acts not to grasp the situation instantly.

"They are trying to make a get-away!" he snapped. "Get de number!"

This was Greek to Pat, whose acquaintance with automobiles was too
recent for him to appreciate the importance of a license number at a
time like this. But Sparrer had not practiced taking automobile numbers
in the rush hours at Madison Square for nothing. It had been only fun
there, by way of training his eyes to quick and sure observation. Now as
a result eye and brain worked in unison and almost automatically and
despite the speed of the car he got the number as surely as if it had