Cates emerged from the elevator at the ground floor and went into the street, moving with the brisk step that characterized him. At once, a nattily dressed young man detached himself from the passing throng and stepped up to Cates. The young man’s right hand was casually thrust into his topcoat pocket.
“Don’t make any funny moves or you’ll get drilled,” he cautioned, low voiced. “See that car at the curb? Well, hop into it.”
The little announcer stiffened with the chill that went over him. Evidently they were losing no time in making good their threats. Cates knew it would do no good to make a break, for the young man would shoot instantly and melt away in the crowd. His eyes, dark and menacing, gave that warning.
Cates eyed him steadily. “What car?” he asked, trying to gain time.
“You know what car!” snarled the gunman. “This green limousine here. Get goin’.”
Officer Cates shrugged. He stepped toward the car. Then a miraculous thing happened.
CHAPTER II: PRACTICING FOR DEATH
A girl who had been anxiously studying the face of every man coming out of the building hurried to Dave Cates. All in a second he saw the radiant smile on her face, caught a glimpse of her lovely, hazel eyes and the infinite grace of her step. She hesitated not a second but came directly to him, a charming little figure, a bit shorter than himself. To his utter stupefaction she threw both arms around his neck and kissed him on the lips. Then quickly she took his arm and led him into the crowd.
So astounded was Cates that he didn’t notice the way she kept between him and the gunman, who had recognized the girl and was scowling, baffled. Cates didn’t even stop to wonder why the gunman didn’t shoot.
“Well, for the love of Mother Machree!” he stammered, completely at sea. “Are you an angel or have you got the wrong guy?”