Frank vaulted to the back of the big black and was away. The horse was fleeter than the other at his best, and Frank’s hopes began to rise. Yet so much time had been already lost that it began to look impossible for him to overtake the sleigh before it reached the tangle of city streets, if it could be done at all.
“Crazy as a loon!” was Frank’s thought as he tore along, a terrible dread at his heart. “It’s singular that he drives straight toward the city!”
The lights were beginning to glow in the streets when Frank, still a considerable distance behind, saw the sleigh turn down a side avenue and disappear behind some buildings.
He had ridden his horse at such high speed that he had greatly decreased the distance separating him from the sleigh. Riding hard for the avenue down which the sleigh and its occupant had vanished, Frank saw them again at the crossing of another street.
Then the houses shut them from sight, and when he again beheld the sleigh it was returning to the principal street. When he reached that street, however, it had again vanished.
“It is singular that Inza doesn’t cry out and attract attention.”
His heart was chilled by the answering thought:
“No doubt she is unconscious. The villain has choked or smothered her. She is not a girl to faint easily otherwise. He must be crazy. This zigzagging back and forth shows it.”
Frank seemed to be chasing a will-o’-the-wisp. At one moment he would see the sleigh, then the driver would send it down some side street, after which it would appear again, to repeat this maneuver.
Observing a policeman at a corner, Frank leaped from his horse, called the bluecoat’s attention to the sleigh; then, leaving the horse to be cared for by other hands, he dived into the nearest cab and instructed the driver to follow the sleigh, and on no account to let it get away from him.