chauffeur shortly.

The speed of the cab increased sensibly.

With a curious tightening of his lips, Jimmie Dale settled himself
in his seat so that he could watch the cab behind. There was trouble
coming, intuitively he sensed that; and, he reflected bitterly, he might
have known! It was too marvellous, too wonderful ever to come to pass
that this one hour, the thought of which had fired his blood and made
him glad beyond any gladness life had ever held for him before, should
bring its promised happiness.

"Where's the cab now?" the chauffeur flung back over his shoulder.

They had passed Fifth Avenue, and were nearing Broadway.

"About the same distance behind," Jimmie Dale answered.

"That looks bad!" the chauffeur gritted between his teeth. "We'll have
to make sure. I'll run down Lower Broadway."

"If you think we're followed," suggested Jimmie Dale quietly, "why not
run uptown and give them the slip somewhere where the traffic is thick?
Lower Broadway at this time of night is as empty and deserted as a
country road."

The chauffeur's sudden laugh was mirthless.

"My God, you don't know what you are talking about!" he burst out. "If
they're following, all hell couldn't throw them off the track. And I've
got to know, I've got to be SURE before I dare make a move to-night. I
couldn't tell up in the crowded districts if I was followed, could I?
They won't come out into the open until their hands are forced."

The car swerved sharply, rounded the corner, and, speeding up faster and
faster, began to tear down Lower Broadway.

"Watch! WATCH!" cried the chauffeur.

There was no word between them for a moment; then Jimmie Dale spoke
crisply:

"It's turned the corner! It's coming this way!"

The taxicab was rocking violently with the speed; silent, empty, Lower
Broadway stretched away ahead. Apart from an occasional street car,
probably there would be nothing between them and the Battery. Jimmie
Dale glanced at his companion's face as a light, flashing by, threw
it into relief. It was set and stern, even a little haggard; but, too,
there was something else there, something that appealed instantly to
Jimmie Dale--a sort of bulldog grit that dominated it.

"If he holds our speed, we'll know!" the chauffeur was shouting now to
make himself heard over the roar of the car. "Look again! Where is it
now?"

Once more Jimmie Dale looked through the little rear window. The cab had
been a block behind them when it h