lanced back. "Gad, I think we're
wrong." He started back frantically. "No, that's right. I 'member
that cafe." We swung round again. Arrived once more at the corner,
again he hesitated, twitching his lips nervously and sobbing for want
of breath. "These blasted streets," he jerked out. "I tried to
memorise 'em, but---- _There they are, Boy! There they are!_"

It was true.

Turning away from us into a street on our left, about forty paces away,
was our own blue coupe....

But for the fact that a cart was presenting a momentary obstruction,
our quarry would have been gone. As it was, I flung myself on to the
running-board as she was gathering speed....

Without a word, I thrust my arm in at the window and switched off the
engine. As she slowed up I leapt for the bonnet, whipped it open and
felt for the high-tension wire. At that moment the engine
re-started.... For a second whoever was driving fumbled with the
gears.... As the wheels meshed with a chunk, my fingers found what
they sought. The next instant the car lunged forward--and the wire
broke.

I fell on my back, certainly, and my hand was bleeding, but I could
afford to smile. The gun was spiked.

As I rose to my feet, the car came gently to rest twenty-five paces
away.

"All right?" panted Berry by my side.

"Every time," said I. "And now for it." I turned to a gaping youth.
"_Allez cherche la police,_" I flung at him. "_Vite!_"

As we came up to the car--

"And may I ask," drawled a voice, "the meaning of this hold-up? I
guess you'll get tired of answering before you're through, but, as the
owner of this vehicle, I'm just curious."

"Cut it out," said I shortly. "And just come out of that car. Both of
you."

So far as the speaker's companion was concerned, my injunction was
supererogatory. Even as I spoke, with a scream of agony the latter
emerged from the car. Holding him fast by the wrist, Berry had almost
broken his arm across the jamb of the door.

"And why?" said the voice imperturbably.

"Because the game's up." I opened the door. "Besides, to tell you the
truth, we're rather particular about our cushions. Till now, no one
with more than three previous convictions has ever sat on them."

With narrowed eyes, a very square-faced gentleman regarded me grimly.

"If you hadn't damaged my car," he said slowly. "I'd get out and
refashion your physiognomy. But I guess I'll wait for the police."
And, with that, he d