On and on went one taxicab after the other. Fifty-fifth Street was passed and still the first turnout kept well in the lead. But then a big furniture van appeared out of a side street and the cab ahead had to slow down.
"Now is your chance!" cried Dick. "Run up alongside of 'em!"
His driver did as requested. But then came a mix-up, as two more cabs appeared, and Dick's was caught between them. He looked ahead and saw the man with the heavy beard leap to the ground.
"Guess your man is going to run for the Park!" cried the taxicab driver. "Hold on—I want my money first, young fellow!"
Dick had leaped to the ground, bent on catching the fleeing individual. He pulled some bills from his pocket.
"Here is five dollars—wait for me!" he cried. "Or maybe you had better come along. That fellow is a criminal."
"I'll wait here," answered the taxicab driver. He did not wish to become mixed up in an affair which he did not understand.
The corner of Central Park at Fifty-seventh Street was already in sight. The bearded man ran swiftly across the broad plaza and the sidewalk. Then he darted along the side of the Park and on to the path leading to the menagerie. In a moment more the darkness of the place swallowed him up.
"Hey there, what are you running for?" It was a challenge from a Park policeman, as he stepped in front of Dick.
"I wanted to catch that man who just ran in here," explained the youth.