and the taxi slowed down and limped dejectedly to the curb.
Alan and the chauffeur piled out in the same instant, the one standing guard—with an eye out as well for another cab—while the other assessed damages.
"Nothing for it but a new tire, sir," the chauffeur reported sympathetically.
"Go to it," Alan advised him tersely, "and if you make a quick job of it I'll make it worth your while. Here's my card."
The man took the card, and, after a glance at the name, touched his hat with more noticeable respect.
"All right, Mr. Law," he agreed, "anything you say." And forthwith got to work.
The rapidity with which he completed the change of tires proved him an excellent chauffeur, an adept at his craft; but the delay was one disastrous for all that. The touring-car came in sight just as they were off again, but for the time being contented itself with trailing about fifty feet in the rear, while the taxi fled the Hoboken waterfront and found its way into the broader streets of a suburban quarter.
When they were well into this last, the touring-car drew in swiftly and Marrophat, rising in his seat, levelled a revolver over the windshield and fired. The crack of his weapon was coincident with a metallic thud beneath the rear seat of the taxicab.
