“I can’t see the road very well,” the man replied. “And there’s a bridge ahead.”
As the car crept forward again, Penny peered from the window. Through the swirling gray mist the indistinct lights which marked the arching steel bridge were faintly visible. A pillar gradually emerged, and beside it the shadowy, slouching figure of a man. His burning cigarette made a pin point of light as he tossed it into the river.
Suddenly Penny’s blood ran cold, for a second man appeared on the bridge. Stealthily he approached the one who gazed with such absorption into the inky waters. His purpose was shockingly clear to those who watched.
Penny screamed a warning; the taxi driver halted his cab, shouting huskily. Their cries came too late.
They saw the attacker leap upon his victim. There was a brief, intense struggle, then a body went hurtling from the bridge, fifty feet to the water below.
“You saw that?” cried Penny. “That man was pushed off the bridge! He’ll drown!”
“We’ve got to save him,” said Jerry.
As the cab came to a standstill, Jerry, the driver, and the two girls, sprang to the pavement. In the murky darkness the bridge appeared deserted, but they could hear the pounding footsteps of the attacker who sought to escape.
“Leave that guy to me!” exclaimed the cab driver. “I’ll get him!”
Abandoning his taxi, he darted across the bridge in pursuit.