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NIGHT-HAWKS
65
"Look!" Mildred softly whispered — look; there they are now!"
The lust of the chase seized our hero. Reckless of the consequences, he was after them hot-foot, leaving the girl alone. A shriek from her recalled him — too late.
"There! Quick! He's got the box!"
It was a clever author who first used the pregnant phrase, "What followed may better be imagined than described." I beg your aid. Try to picture Hero Humphrey to the rescue ; see him pant as the chase leads over fence and field; watch the wretched Nichol staggering with his plunder over the unaccustomed grass and gravel. He stumbles ! He falls ! The brass box drops from his hand, and Humphrey has it ! So far, so good. But where was Mildred?
With real alarm, the young autoist searched and shouted. At length, he climbed dejectedly into his 1914 model and chugged away. Without the hard feel of the brass box in his overcoat pocket, he would have thought the whole affair a dream, so quickly had it taken place.
It was night. It was also, thought Mildred, desperately, a nightmare. She ceased struggling with the cords about her wrists and listened breathlessly to the voices in the other room. The handsome woman that the men called "Miss Vernon" was speaking:
"You followed him to his home? Are you sure of the number? Then the rest is easy."
A telephone receiver clicked down.
"Hello! 2195— M, Breslin— hullo ! Mr. Humphrey? This is a friend of Miss Varing speaking. She wants you to bring the little box to 50 West
THE TRAPPERS TRAPPED