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.
"Elaine!" he cried. "They've kidnapped Elaine!"
What had really happened, as we learned later from Elaine and others, was that when the cross roads was reached, the three crooks in the limousine had stopped long enough to speak to an accomplice stationed there, according to their plan for a getaway. He was a tough looking individual who might have been hoboing it to the city.
When, a few minutes later, Kennedy and Elaine had approached the fork, their driver had slowed up, as if in doubt which way to go. Craig had stuck his head out of the window, as I had done, and, seeing the crossroads, had told the chauffeur to stop. There stood the hobo.
"Did a car pass here, just now—a big car?" called Craig.
The man put his hand to his ear, as if only half comprehending.
"Which way did the big car go?" repeated Kennedy.
The hobo approached the taxicab sullenly, as if he had a grudge against cars in general.