Looking back he saw the car swing wildly, veer toward the far side of the street, and finally straighten out in pursuit of them. “You seem to spell ’trouble’ with capital letters,” said the federal agent as he joined Bob in peering out the window. “Maybe you’d better give me that paper. They know you’ve got it and if we get in a jam they’ll try and get it away from you.” Bob handed over the paper and his uncle slipped it into a small leather portfolio which he carried in an inside pocket of his coat. The taxi swung wildly around another corner and the brakes screeched as a string of red lights barred their way. The street was undergoing repairs. The driver of their vehicle jammed on his brakes just as the pursuing machine lurched around the corner. “Keep on going!” cried Bob’s uncle, grabbing the driver by the shoulder and shaking him roughly. “Keep on!” It was a command the driver dared not disobey, and their car leaped ahead once more, aimed straight at the first of the red lights. Their headlights revealed a wooden barrier, but there was no stopping now and the taxi crashed into the stringers. Several red lights were bowled over as the barrier went down. Then they were bouncing along over the uneven paving, the wheels dropping into deep ruts. Bob turned and looked behind them. The pursuing car had stopped at the barrier and he could see men leaping out. It was evident that they intended to pursue the chase, even on foot. “I’m wrecking this car,” cried the taxi driver in protest as they struck a particularly deep rut. “Keep going; don’t worry about the car!” cried Merritt Hughes. “We’ve got to get out of this trap.” The engine of the taxi groaned in protest of the punishment which it was undergoing, but it labored on, dragging the heavy vehicle out of one hole and into another. Bob kept his eyes on the pursuers, who were now plainly revealed in the lights from the other car. They seemed to be gaining on the struggling taxi. “We’d better take a chance on foot,” he warned his uncle. “It’s only a little ways to the end of this construction work. If we can get that far, we’ll soon outdistance them,” replied Merritt Hughes. “If we get stalled, make a break for it. Don’t worry about me. Once you get clear go directly to the Department of Justice and report in person to Waldo Edgar.” “But we’ll have a better chance together,” protested Bob. “No. We’ll go it alone,” his uncle decided. “That will confuse them and one of us is bound to get away.” “But how about the radio secret?” “We’ve got to chance that. But remember that you are the one they’ll be after. Maybe that’s putting you on the spot, but I’ve got to do it now. It’s our only chance.” The headlights of the taxi showed the end of the construction work. A smooth street was less than 100 feet ahead of them, but Bob thought the remainder of the distance they must go looked even rougher than that portion of the street they had negotiated so far.