Suddenly it came to him and he turned about like a flash.
The man was Talham Tabbs!
By this time the crazy man was nearly a block away, and he too was looking back as though the recognition had been mutual.
Joe did not hesitate for an instant. Fate had thrown this chance in his way and he might never have another. He started to run and then checked himself for fear of alarming his quarry and subsided into a swift walk.
But the cunning of the insane man had seen Joe’s first movement and interpreted it correctly. He turned into a vacant lot and broke into a run.
Joe hesitated no longer at following his example; and the next moment a lively chase was on.
By the time Joe turned into the lot, Tabbs was three hundred feet ahead and running hard. But he was no match for a young man who was in the pink of condition and who was able to circle the bases in fifteen seconds flat. In less than a minute Joe was close on his heels. Tabbs turned and twisted desperately and just as Joe reached out his hand to grasp him, he dodged under his arms and doubled on his tracks. Joe swung around as though on a pivot, and in another moment his hand was on the collar of the panting man. He dug his knuckles into Tabbs’ neck and the latter ceased to struggle.
For a moment neither spoke, each trying to regain his breath. Then, to Joe’s astonishment, Tabbs grinned affably and twiddled his fingers as he had done previously in the Riverside jail.
“Hello, brother,” greeted Tabbs. “That was a good game of tag, wasn’t it? I guess I’m it.”
There was such an utter absence of malice or resentment, that Joe, who had been bracing himself for a struggle, was taken aback, and his heart smote him a little as he saw Tabbs’ friendly signal. But he was quick to follow his lead.