“Let some of the others catch him,” gritted Halstead, inwardly. “What we want most to know may be in this bag!”
It was all done so quickly that Skipper Tom was across the office, pulling open the door into the corridor, before Anson Dalton bounded after him.
Joe Dawson rushed in from the porch, but too late to be of immediate help. Officer Hunter had sprawled badly, and Mr. Seaton had halted to aid him to his feet.
“Drop that bag, or you’ll wish you had—no time for this nonsense,” blazed Dalton, angrily, thrusting his right hand at his hip pocket.
CHAPTER XXIII
HANK BECOMES REALLY TERRIBLE
Bump! Whack!
Tom Halstead tried to slam the door shut in his pursuer’s face, but one of Dalton’s feet barred the closing, then thrust the door open.