Active as he was, Laurie was not the first to leap at the hawk-eyed one. A man in gray, the man who had been following them, sprang squarely at the captor’s throat.
With a howl of rage and fear the villain loosed one hand to strike out at his mysterious assailant. All in vain; the rescuer came straight on. Striking the captor squarely in the middle, he bowled him over like a ten-pin. So sudden was this attack that Cordie was also thrown to the pavement.
Finding herself free and unharmed, she sprang to her feet. She felt a hand at her elbow and turned to look into the face of Laurie Seymour.
“Ah!” she breathed, “I am safe!”
But even as she said this she saw Laurie collapse like an empty sack, and the next instant grasped from behind by two clutching hands, she was again whirled toward the kidnapper’s car.
Half blinded by terror, she caught a vision of police blue that hovered above her.
“Pat! Patrick O’Hara!” she called.
There came the angry crack of an automatic. Then the figure in blue came hurtling off the horse to fall at her feet. At the same instant there was a second catapult-like blow of the man in gray. Again she was snatched free.
“Jiggers! Beat it! Beat it!” she heard in a hoarse whisper. The next instant the door to the blue car slammed shut and its wheels began to move.
For three seconds she wavered there, watching the car move away. Then catching a glimpse of Patrick O’Hara lying at her feet, wounded, perhaps dead, a great courage came to her.