"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.
He made a hasty motion to her to make a dash for the door. She nodded quietly.