They were soon jumping across the railroad switches and could see the canal stretching toward the city, marked by a succession of well-lighted bridges. “They’ll pinch us here! Nellie, you little fool, if you hadn’t steered me to that office I’d ’a’ been out o’ this!” He swore under his breath and Burgess cordially hated him for swearing at the girl. But, beyond doubt, the pursuers had caught the scent and were crossing the coalyard. They heard plainly the sounds of men running and shouting. Bob seized Nellie and there was a sharp tussle. “For God’s sake, trust me, Bob! Take this; don’t let him have it!” And she thrust a revolver into Burgess’s hand. “Better be caught than that! Mind the bank here and keep close together. Good dog--he’s eating the cops!” And she laughed her delicious mirthful laugh. A pistol banged and the dog barked no more. The three were now on the ice of the canal, spreading out to distribute their weight. The day had been warm enough to soften the ice and it cracked ominously as the trio sped along. Half a dozen bridges were plainly in sight toward the city and Burgess got his bearings again. Four blocks away was his motor and the big car was worth making a break for at any hazard. They stopped under the second bridge and heard the enemy charging over the tracks and out upon the ice. A patrol wagon clanged on a bridge beyond the coalyard and a whistle blew. A sergeant began bawling orders and half a dozen men were sent to reconnoiter the canal. As they advanced they swept the banks with their electric lamps and conferred with scouts flung along the banks. The snow fell steadily. “We can’t hold this much longer,” said Nellie; and as she spoke there was a wild shout from the party advancing over the ice. The lamps of several policemen shot wildly into the sky and there were lusty bawls for help. “A bunch of fat cops breaking through the ice!” chuckled the girl, hurrying on. They gained a third bridge safely, Nellie frequently admonishing Bob to stick close to her. It was clear enough to Burgess that Drake wanted to be rid of him and the girl and take charge of his own destiny. Burgess had fallen behind and was feeling his way under the low bridge; Nellie was ahead, and the two men were for the moment flung together. “Gi’ me my gun! I ain’t goin’ to be pinched this trip. Gi’ me the gun!” “Keep quiet; we’re all in the same boat!” panted Burgess, whose one hundred and seventy pounds, as registered on the club scales that very day after luncheon, had warned him that he was growing pulpy.