There was now nothing but the latter, and
only feeble straws at that. Oh, he would manage somehow; he jolly well
had to; and there was a bare chance of falling in with a bobby. But run?
Honestly, now, how the devil was a chap to run on a pair of spools?

Arriving at the appointed spot they separated. He waved his hand airily
and marched off. If he fell it would be out of sight, where the girl
could not see him. Clever chap--what? Damned rotter! For himself he did
not care. He was weary of this game of hide and seek. But to have lured
the girl into it! When he turned the first corner of his journey he
paused and leaned against the wall, his eyes shut. When he opened them
the sidewalk and the street lamps were normal again.

As soon as he disappeared a new plan came to Kitty. She put it into
execution at once, on the basis that yonder taxicab was an enemy
machine. She left her retreat and walked boldly down the street, her
eyes alert for the least suspicious sign. If she could make the entrance
before they suspected the trick, she could obtain help before Johnny
Two-Hawks made the south turn. She reached her objective, pushed through
the revolving doors, and turned. Dimly she could see the taxi driver;
but he appeared to be dozing on the seat.

As a matter of fact, one of the three men in the taxi recognized
Kitty, but too late to intercept her. Her manoeuvre had confused him
temporarily. And while he and his companions were debating, Kitty had
time to summon Cutty's man from Elevator Four.

"Step into the car!" he roughly ordered, after she had given him a gist
of her suspicions. He turned off the lights, stepped out, and shut the
gates with a furious bang. "And stick to the corner! I'll attend to the
other fool."

He rushed into the street, his automatic ready, eyed the taxicab
speculatively, wheeled suddenly, and ran south at a dog-trot. He rounded
the south corner, but he did not see Hawksley anywhere. The dog-trot
became a dead run. As he wheeled round the corner of the parallel street
he almost bumped into Hawksley, who had a policeman in tow.

"Officer," said the man with the boy's face, "this is Federal business.
Aliens. Come along. There may be trouble. If there should be any
shooting don't bother with the atmosphere. Pick out a real target."

"Anarchists?"

"About the size of it."

"Miss Conover?" asked Hawksley.

"Safe. No thanks to you, though. I'd like to knock your block off, if
you want to know!