"I'm Officer 4434 of the Police Department, and you mind my orders."
"Well, I'm Reggie Van Nostrand," answered the young man, "and I take orders from no man."
Burke knew this young millionaire by reputation. But he was nowise daunted. He kept his eye on the distant taxicab, which had luckily been halted at the second cross street by the delayed traffic.
"I'm going to put this pretty car of yours in the scrap heap, and I'm going to land you in jail, with all your money," calmly replied Burke, drawing his revolver. "The man in that taxi is a white slaver who just tried the poison needle on a girl, and you and I are going to capture him."
The undeniable sporting blood surged in the veins of Reggie Van Nostrand, be it said to his credit. It was not the threat.
"I'm with you, Officer!" He pressed a little lever with his foot and the big racing machine sprang forward like a thing possessed by a demon of speed.
The traffic officer on the other street tried to stop the car, until he saw the uniform of the policeman in the seat.
Bob waved his hand, and the fixed post man held back several machines, in order to give him the right of way.
They were now within a block of the other car.
"Say, haven't you another robe or coat that I can put on to cover my uniform, for that fellow will suspect a chase, anyway?"