My man had entered fully into the spirit of the chase.
“That fellow in yonder taxi has just stolen a thousand pounds!” I told him.
“All right, sir,” replied my driver, as he bent over his wheel; “we shall catch him presently, never fear. I’m keeping my eye upon him all right.”
There were many taxis coming into the line of traffic from Bond Street and from the other main thoroughfares crossing Oxford Street—red taxis, just like the one in which Forbes was escaping. Yet we both kept our eyes fixed upon that particular one, the driver of which presently bent sideways, and shot back a glance at us.
Then he put on speed, and with marvellous dexterity threaded in and out of the motor-buses and carts in front of him. I was compelled to admire his driving. I could only suppose that Forbes had offered him something handsome if he got safely away.
At the Marble Arch he suddenly turned down Park Lane, where the traffic was less, and there gaining upon us, he turned into one of the smaller streets, through Upper Grosvenor Street, winding in and out the intricate thoroughfares which lay between Grosvenor Square and Regent Street. Across Hanover Square and along Hanover Street we sped, until, passing out on to the opposite side of Regent Street, the driver, evidently believing that he had outwitted us, slowed down, and then pulled up suddenly before a shop.
Ere the fugitive could escape, indeed ere the door could be opened, we had pulled up a few yards away, and I dashed out and up to the door of the cab, my revolver gripped in my hand.
My driver had descended also, and gained the other side of the cab almost as soon as I had.