Summary

Norvell Page Wings of the Black Death — A Shot in the Dark (1933)

Tell a taxi driver to hurry in New York and you get the wildest ride that can be achieved by human ingenuity and mechanical power. Fender-brushing, brake-slamming, tire squealing speed!
Off slammed the taxi, weaving through traffic like a rabbit running through brambles. It whirled a corner on dry-skidding tires, dodged a head-on collision by a fraction of an inch, spurted between two encroaching trucks.
Wentworth, feverish-eyed, tense-muscled, leaned forward and rapped on the glass. “Faster,” he cried, “Faster!”
Source: Wikisource

Norvell Page Wings of the Black Death — A Shot in the Dark (1933)

Commissioner Kirkpatrick is your friend. You can't desert him in his greatest need.”
Wentworth leaned across the table as if urging her to speak in a lower tone of voice. Audibly he said, “For God's sake, Nita, don't make a scene.” But under his breath he whispered, “You're doing splendidly! Keep it up.”
Now the girl's voice turned pleading. “But Dick, you must stay, and help Kirkpatrick catch the man behind this dreadful plague. Surely,” she jeered at him now, “surely you are not afraid of the Black Death.”
Source: Wikisource

Norvell Page Wings of the Black Death — A Shot in the Dark (1933)

The taxi driver whipped a frightened glance over his shoulder, the whites of his eyes showing, and suddenly Wentworth laughed. The man must think him utterly mad.
But the driver was trying desperately to fulfill the demand of this grim-faced passenger behind him, for when a passenger asks favors it means big tips. And even in taxi-riding New York big tips are scarce nowadays.
He locked tires and skidded the last twenty-five feet to the curb before Wentworth's apartment house, and the violence of the stop almost flung his passenger forward upon his shoulders.
Source: Wikisource

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