“Keep going; don’t worry about the car!” cried Merritt Hughes. “We’ve got to get out of this trap.”
The engine of the taxi groaned in protest of the punishment which it was undergoing, but it labored on, dragging the heavy vehicle out of one hole and into another.
Bob kept his eyes on the pursuers, who were now plainly revealed in the lights from the other car. They seemed to be gaining on the struggling taxi.
“We’d better take a chance on foot,” he warned his uncle.
“It’s only a little ways to the end of this construction work. If we can get that far, we’ll soon outdistance them,” replied Merritt Hughes. “If we get stalled, make a break for it. Don’t worry about me. Once you get clear go directly to the Department of Justice and report in person to Waldo Edgar.”
“But we’ll have a better chance together,” protested Bob.
“No. We’ll go it alone,” his uncle decided. “That will confuse them and one of us is bound to get away.”
“But how about the radio secret?”
“We’ve got to chance that. But remember that you are the one they’ll be after. Maybe that’s putting you on the spot, but I’ve got to do it now. It’s our only chance.”
The headlights of the taxi showed the end of the construction work. A smooth street was less than 100 feet ahead of them, but Bob thought the remainder of the distance they must go looked even rougher than that portion of the street they had negotiated so far.