To Martin there was one thing paramount--the jewels.
In the midst of the confusion, Elaine, closely followed by her
friend Susie, made her way fearlessly into the stifle of smoke
down the stairs.
"There are your jewels, Mr. Martin," cried Kennedy, kicking the
precious burlap bag with his foot as if it had been so much
ordinary merchandise, and turning toward what was in his mind the
most important thing at stake--the direction taken by the agents
of the Clutching Hand.
"Thank heaven!" ejaculated Martin, fairly pouncing on the bag and
tearing it open. "They didn't get away with them--after all!" he
exclaimed, examining the contents with satisfaction. "See--you
must have frightened them off at just the right moment when you
sent the bomb back at them."
Elaine and Susie pressed forward eagerly as he poured forth the
sparkling stream of gems, intact.
"Wasn't he just simply wonderful!" I heard Susie whisper to
Elaine.
Elaine did not answer. She had eyes or ears for nothing now in the
melee but Kennedy.
. . . . . . . .
Events were moving rapidly.
The limousine had been standing innocently enough at the curb near
the corner, with the taxicab close behind it.
Less than ten minutes after they had entered, three well-dressed
men came out of the vacant shop, apparently from the tailor's
above, and climbed leisurely into their car.
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