“They’ll not lose me,” declared the driver, shouting to make his voice heard above the rattling rumble of wheels.
At the very next corner the cab in advance swung sharply around into Beach Street, and now they were in sight of the bay that was but a few blocks away.
The driver of the pursuing cab attempted to make a sharp turn at the corner, but he did not do it skillfully, and a catastrophe occurred.
Over went the cab!
Crash—smash!
The driver was flung to the ground, and Frank was shot out through a window.
By the rarest kind of luck Frank was not injured severely, and he quickly leaped to his feet.
The frightened horses were plunging and rearing, but the driver had clung to the reins, and was holding them from running away.
Frank wondered if Barney had been hurt, but there was no time for him to stop there, if he meant to keep the other cab in sight.
Frank was a sprinter, and he started after the cab at a run.