Johnston McCulley

“ Now and then Verbeck waved his hand to indicate a turn, and Muggs obeyed.
They skirted the retail district, and got to the wholesale district, where there was scant traffic at this hour of the night, but always behind them came the two police automobiles, sirens shrieking, officers screeching.
“We can’t dodge ’em, boss!” Muggs yelled.
Verbeck looked at his watch again. He had only thirty minutes! But an automobile going at racing pace can cover a lot of ground in thirty minutes, even through the streets of a city. On they dashed, twisting and turning, never gaining, just holding their own. ”

“ Verbeck turned the key in the closet door, for things might come to a pass where seconds of delay would mean everything.
Finally the window was open. Muggs, putting out his head cautiously, looked around.
“Only one man on this side, boss,” he reported. “The others have gone around to the door.”
“They’re in the house,” Verbeck replied. “They’re flashing their torches—I can see them in the hall through the keyhole.”
“This side of the house is dark, boss, shaded by trees. And there is a drift of snow against it. We might get out without being heard or seen.” ”

“ They did not seem to be able to gain on their pursuers, and the precious minutes were flying. They took corners at a reckless pace, zigzagging through the city in a vain attempt to outwit those who followed. ”