“Get ready, Marsland,” was Donegan’s statement. “We’re going to work quick when we get started. I’ve been on the lookout for this bozo.
“I’ll do the talking if I get the chance. You handle the rest. Dip tells me you know how to shove a gat in a guy’s ribs and make him savvy. I believe him!”
The trailed taxicab stopped half a block away from the district station house. Joe Cardona alighted and spoke to the driver. Flash pulled up his car a short distance behind. Cliff admired the nerve of the racketeer. They were close enough to overhear Cardona’s words.
“Stick here,” the detective said. “I’m going inside. If I don’t come out right away, somebody else will. After we get near the place, you’re finished for the night. All right?”
THE taxi driver grunted an affirmative reply. Cardona disappeared. Then it was that Flash Donegan showed the quickness that had gained him his nickname.
Nudging Cliff, he clambered from the car. Cliff followed, as Flash approached the taxicab and appeared suddenly beside the driver.
“Get going,” ordered Flash, as he opened the door of the cab.
Dunc Miller responded. Flash had one hand upon the handle of the door. His other hand held an automatic. The gun was thrust into the startled taximan’s ribs.
Cliff jumped in the taxi, and Flash Donegan followed. Only for a second did he leave the man uncovered. Now, his gun was through the window from the rear seat, jabbing into the back of the driver’s neck.
The cab was in motion. As it swung up the street, Flash spoke rapidly. He was giving instructions and asking questions at once. The cab driver was following both.