“Right here,” said the motorman. “Cap, I’m thirty-four minutes late, an’ that there——”
“Hey! Nab those two chaps!” roared the policeman, ducking around the car.
But George Clayton had quickly taken in the situation.
The hot blood mounted to his face, as he thought of being actually detained, and he determined to outwit the authorities, regardless of his automobile and everything else.
With a hurried, “Come ahead, Aleck,” he dashed headlong out of the crowd, and made for a side street, while Aleck instantly followed.
The crowd seemed to melt, and the lusty shouts of the policeman urged the boys on.
Thoroughly aroused, George and Aleck put on a terrific burst of speed, and easily distanced the foremost of their pursuers. They were just as successful in dodging several who tried to head them off.
Up one street and down another the boys raced, with several street curs barking and snapping at their heels.
When they came to a pause, it was by the side of a lumber yard. The high piles served as a protection from the rain, and the two, breathing hard, leaned against the fence, and looked anxiously for any signs of their pursuers.
“Some excitement, eh?” gasped George, when he had recovered his breath sufficiently to speak.