The maneuver caught the other unaware, and he stumbled back against the pile of bricks. The flashlight, dropping to the ground, went out.
“Give me a hand, over here! The kid’s busted my flashlight,” called the man Bob had kicked.
Then it felt as though a ton of beef had suddenly been dropped on him for the man who had captured him was trying to make sure that Bob would not squirm away from him. Just to make sure, he fell heavily on the young federal agent and Bob cried out in pain as the breath was forced from his lungs.
From the distance came the shrill siren of a police car.
“Hurry it up, over there,” a voice called. “We’ve got to make a break out of here.”
“Did you get the other guy?” demanded the man who was almost smothering Bob.
“Not yet.”
On the echo of those words there came a shot and a cry.
“We’ve got him!”
Bob attempted to throw off his assailant, but a thousand stars seemed to descend upon him, police sirens mixed in with roaring motors and blazing guns and in spite of his efforts he dropped into a jumbled sleep.