"Here--we've got to act quickly--that devil has escaped again," he
hissed. "We must get her away. You keep her here. I'll be back--
right away--with a car."
He dashed madly from the church, pulling off his mask as he gained
the street.
. . . . . . . .
Kennedy had forced the crook ahead of us into the car which was
waiting and I followed, taking the wheel this time.
"Which way, now--quick!" demanded Craig, "And if you get me in
wrong--I've got that tube yet--you remember."
Our crook started off with a whole burst of directions that
rivalled the motor guide--"through the town, following trolley
tracks, jog right, jog left under the R. R. bridge, leaving
trolley tracks; at cemetery turn left, stopping at the old stone
church."
"Is this it?" asked Craig incredulously.
"Yes--as I live," swore the crook in a cowed voice.
He had gone to pieces. Kennedy jumped from the machine.
"Here, take this gun, Walter," he said to me. "Don't take your
eyes off the fellow--keep him covered."
Craig walked around the church, out of sight, until he came to a
small vestry window and looked in.
There was Elaine, sitting in a chair, and near her stood an
elderly looking man in clerical garb, which to Craig's trained eye
was quite evidently a disguise.
Elaine happened just then to glance at the window and her eyes
grew wide with astonishment at the sight of Craig.
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