The Winslow mail., 1914-05-09

1
miles, eh?" he said, sneering. Don't
you suppose I'd hit him if he'd been
going at fifty? Why, that was two
hundred if it was one; the fellow was
out Of sight before I could draw me
gun"
Then, dashing through the immense
crowd which had blocked the roadway,
he ran into nearby telephone booth.
Hello! Mr.. Frank Staples has been
held up and robbed at No. 3742 Pros
pect Park West by man in an auto,
wedge-shaped, running on a single
wheel. Got that? Yes, single wheel.
Machine is making for Fulton street
down FTatbush, meaning, of course, to
cross into Manhattan and gain the
country. Telephone all stationary posts
and branch Offices; call the bridge,
Manhattan side, and have ropes
stretched across the carriage road and
footway or he'll get free. You've got
less than three minutes to do it in"
He hung up the receiver and
slouched back like broken man, as
indeed, he felt himself to be. This
meant the finish Of his career as a
member of the police force. Three
minutes!" he muttered viciously.
Three seconds, more like. I'll bet
he's over the bridge already. Unless"
de added, with a glimmer of hope
hes had a collision
But the man in the chair was too
sagacious to collide with any vehicle
that afternoon; the slightest jar of
wheel against wheel would have
plunged him, travelling at that fearful
rate, to immediate death. And it was
by reason of this sagaciousness that in
| point of fact the police actually were
| enabled to stretch ropes across the
middle of the Brooklyn bridge before
the strange vehicle arrived.
AS soon as he had shaken off his
pursuers and passed from the quiet
residential section into the traffic
haunted region of F'latbush avenue the
cripple displayed a singular indiffer-
ence, as though he were supremely
confident of his ability both to outwit
and to outrun his enemies. He had
sped toward Flatbush avenue at the
rate of hundred and fifty miles an
hour, whirling SO fast that he was COM
pletely hidden from sight in the clouds
of dust flung up by the wheel But
when he reached that artery of traffic
he had slowed down to not more than
fifty miles. He whizzed past the traf-
f1c policeman who attempted to stay
his progress, turned into maze of
small side streets, constantly dimin-
ishing his speed, and finally emerged
upon Court street, gliding no faster
than man on a bicycle. He looked
right and left for the fraction of a
second as he neared Fulton street. 1t
had been his intention to return across
the Brooklyn bridge to Manhattan, but
he had not calculated upon the pres
ence of the two policemen, and it oc-
Cured to him that others might be
waiting for him at the other end. But
that risk was smaller than the one
which would ensue should he become
isolated upon Long island in a Gordon,
and so he swung into Fulton street
and headed toward the East river,
travelling at about twenty miles an
| hour The wheel glided upon rail of
| the car tracks, to which it adhered i'm
mediately without a single guiding mo-
ton of the drivers arm, and the pace
began automatically to increase imme-
diately. But the route became OBJ
scured by the approach Of an uptown
car, and the cripple swung his chair
| off the line again, upon which he had
run merely as test, and proceeded
in leisurely manner past Clark and
Pineapple streets and so to the bridge
entrance, where he disconnected his
running gear and began to move by
hand power toward the passenger track
that crosses the center of the bridge.
| None of the crowd was idle enough
at that hour to examine the strange
looking vehicle closely, and it was OBJ
vious, from the lack of interest which
the wayfarers displayed, that the news
of the robbery had not yet become pub
lie property. The cripple patted his
pocket as he moved deftly through
| the crowd toward the bridge footway
There, snugly ensconced in the leather
wallet which he had taken from Mr.
| Staples lay ten thousand dollars in
bills-his money, long overdue, of
which he had been robbed when Sta
| pies had aided the land gang to rail
| road him to prison five years before.
But he would not let his mind dwell
upon that for the present, lest his
anger invalidate his judgment; just
now he must concentrate all his forces
upon the endeavor to escape And,
once across the bridge and safe in
Manhattan, he knew that nothing
could prevent his progress.
He had threaded the crowds and
was moving toward the footway when
he heard shouts behind him. The news
had just been telephoned to the sta
tionary policemen on duty at that
point, one Of the fat elderly police
men who are detailed in their last
years of duty to the lighter Offices.
The man was racing after him, putting
heavily as he ran. His tunic was un-