Kennedy's cab followed, skidding dangerously near a pole.
But the taxicab was no match for the powerful limousine. On uptown
they went, the only thing preventing the limousine from escaping
being the fear of pursuit by traffic police if the driver let out
speed. They were content to manage to keep just far enough ahead
to be out of danger of having Kennedy overhaul them. As for us, we
followed as best we could, on uptown, past the city line, and out
into the country.
There Kennedy lost sight altogether of the car he was trailing.
Worse than that, we lost sight of Kennedy. Still we kept on
blindly, trusting to luck and common sense in picking the road.
I was peering ahead over the driver's shoulder, the window down,
trying to direct him, when we approached a fork in the road. Here
was a dilemma which must be decided at once rightly or wrongly.
As we neared the crossroad, I gave an involuntary exclamation.
Beside the road, almost on it, lay the figure of a man. Our driver
pulled up with a jerk and I was out of the car in an instant.
There lay Kennedy! Someone had blackjacked him. He was groaning
and just beginning to show signs of consciousness as I bent over.
"What's the matter, old man?" I asked, helping him to his feet.
He looked about dazed a moment, then seeing me and comprehending,
he pointed excitedly, but vaguely.
Pages:
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64