“If he comes here again.”
CHAPTER XVIII
THOSE WHO FOLLOWED
LAMONT CRANSTON’S cab sped westward across New York. The driver had been given a destination more than a mile away. But now he received new instructions. The man in the back seat leaned forward through the window, and exhibited a ten-dollar bill.
“Turn quickly,” he said. “Left at the next corner. Double back. Go by the house which I just left.”
The cab wheeled around the corner. The driver made another quick turn to the left, down a narrow street. Realizing that his passenger had some plan afoot, the man at the wheel chose an unfrequented byway.
But before he had reached the avenue beyond, he was aware that another car was roaring down the narrow street. The cab driver mumbled to himself, as he realized that he was being followed.
A taxicab is not a vehicle for speed; but it is designed for quick turn and prompt control. Lamont Cranston, calmly smoking a cigarette in the back seat, smiled as he felt the cab swerve around another corner.
Lamont Cranston leaned into the front seat.
“When you come to the house I left, stop there,” he said. “I am going back.”