The big machine rammed into a pile of bricks and stalled. They were only half way down the block and Bob reversed quickly and backed the car away. With a sharp flip of the wheel he skirted the obstruction and once more roared ahead, the car gaining speed as it went along in second gear. The roar of the motor was so loud that it drowned out the explosions of the guns. Bob, watching for some sign of his uncle, thought he saw a form flit toward the side of the street, but he couldn’t be sure. The car bounced in and out of a ditch, the wheels spinning frantically and finally gaining enough traction to send it ahead once more. The windshield, which had been struck four times, was a maze of shattered glass, and Bob could see only dimly the light which marked the end of the street. It was impossible to discern anything ahead of him and he turned on the headlights. It didn’t matter much now, for the car was too large a target to miss. But the lights failed to come on. Some bullet had probably clipped the wires, and Bob, his hands wrapped around the steering wheel, hung on grimly as the big car bounced along the uneven street. There was a jarring crash and the big car, its wheels still spinning futilely, came to a stop. Bob was knocked against the steering wheel and his head reeled from the shock. Dimly he heard someone jerk open the door and he tried to rally his dulled senses and put up a resistance, but a rough hand reached him and seized him by the shoulders. He was conscious that a light blazed suddenly in his face. “It’s the kid!” cried the heavy voice. “I’ll search him. Get the other guy!” Bob was jerked from the car and dropped to the ground. Once more the flashlight blazed, this time shielded behind a pile of bricks, and heavy hands went through his pockets. As his head cleared, Bob realized his situation. Resistance right now to the search might give his uncle a few more precious minutes and Bob suddenly doubled up his knees and aimed a heavy kick at the man who was bending over him. The maneuver caught the other unaware, and he stumbled back against the pile of bricks. The flashlight, dropping to the ground, went out. “Give me a hand, over here! The kid’s busted my flashlight,” called the man Bob had kicked. Then it felt as though a ton of beef had suddenly been dropped on him for the man who had captured him was trying to make sure that Bob would not squirm away from him. Just to make sure, he fell heavily on the young federal agent and Bob cried out in pain as the breath was forced from his lungs. From the distance came the shrill siren of a police car. “Hurry it up, over there,” a voice called. “We’ve got to make a break out of here.” “Did you get the other guy?” demanded the man who was almost smothering Bob. “Not yet.” On the echo of those words there came a shot and a cry. “We’ve got him!”