"If only we could get into touch with our motor-boat," said one of the secret service men, "we could arrange a plan to cover every possibility."
"We've got to find what this Revere Rendezvous is," insisted Captain Hardy. "Can't you think of anything that would suggest such a name?"
The three men fell silent, pondering the matter. The car swept on.
"Hello!" said Willie. "We've left Third Avenue, but we're going so fast now I can't make out the names on the sign-posts."
And indeed they were going. As they approached the edge of the city limits, where there was little traffic and the driver could see far ahead, he pressed his foot on the accelerator and the great car went roaring through the street at more than thirty miles an hour. And as they drew closer and closer to the open country, the man at the wheel rushed them on faster and faster. In vain Willie looked at the sign-posts. The car darted past them with baffling speed. But Willie wanted to know where he was.
"What street are we on now?" he asked, leaning toward the driver.
"The Boston Post Road," said the driver, without turning his head.
Captain Hardy caught the name and his eyes flashed. "The Boston Post Road!" he repeated. "Does this go anywhere near New Rochelle?"
"Right through it," said the driver, "only they call it Main Street within the town limits."
"Does it pass near Echo Bay?"