There was a traffic officer here, and the cab driver chuckled at the plight of the sedan. Now he was earning his ten-spot. They would get away this time!
“Well done,” complimented Cranston. “Now drive slowly. Take it quite easily, until you have passed the next corner.”
The driver was completely bewildered. This man who had seemed so anxious to get away was now deliberately enticing and aiding the pursuing car!
IN fact, the sedan was close behind, when the cab resumed its speed. The driver, catching a slight advantage, put a half a block between himself and the pursuers.
A few blocks later, the cab stopped. It was well ahead of the sedan; yet the passenger seemed in no hurry to leave. He stepped slowly from the cab; gave the driver another bill, and watched him pull away.
Then, as the sedan whirled up the street toward him, Lamont Cranston calmly stepped into a limousine that was parked a few feet away. The chauffeur, dozing at the wheel, woke up instantly as he heard the door close. He looked back with a startled expression.
“Take me to the Landis Club,” said Lamont Cranston, in a deep voice. “Hurry, Wilkes. Move along.”
“Yes, sir,” replied the chauffeur.
He turned the limousine into the traffic, skimming the front of the pursuing sedan as he did. Lamont Cranston was scarcely visible in the back seat. But he was moving in the darkness. His hands were lifting a package from the floor.
Ten minutes later, the limousine rolled grandly up to the entrance of the Landis Club, which was fronted by a canopy that stretched across the sidewalk. The sedan pulled into a vacant space behind, and waited there.