But Champney Googe was running to goal, and the old training stood him in good stead. He was across Second Avenue before the men were half way down Tenth Street; down Eighth Street towards East River he fled, but at First he doubled on his tracks and eluded them. They lost him as he turned into Second Avenue again; not a footstep showed on the ice-coated pavement. They stopped at a telephone station to notify the police at the Brooklyn Bridge terminals, then paused to draw a long breath. "You're sure 't was him?" One of the detectives appealed to Father Honore. "Yes, I'm sure." "He give us the slip this time; he knew we was after him," the other panted rather than spoke, for the long run had winded him. "I never see such running--and look at the glare of ice! He'd have done me up in another block." "Well, the hunt's up for to-night, anyway. There's no use tobogganning round after such a hare at this time of night," said the other, wiping the wet snow from the inside of his coat collar. "We've spotted him sure enough," said the first, "and I think, sir, with due notifications at headquarters for all the precincts to-night, we can run him down and in to-morrow. If you've no more use for me, I'll just step round to headquarters and get the lines on him before daylight--that is, if they'll work." He looked dubiously at the sagging ice-laden wires. "You won't need me any longer?" The second man spoke inquiringly, as if he would like to know Father Honore's next move. "I don't need you both, but I'd like one of you to volunteer to keep me company, for a while, at least. I can't give up this way, although I know no more of his whereabouts than you do. I've a curious unreasoning feeling that he'll try the ferries next." "He can't get at the bridge--we've headed him off there, and it's a bad night. It's been my experience that this sort don't take to water, not naturally, on such nights as this. We might try one of the Bowery lodging houses that I know this sort finds out sometimes. I'll go with you, if you like." "Thank you, I want to try the ferries first; we'll begin at the Battery and work up. How long does the Staten Island boat run?" "Not after one; but they'll be behind time to-night; it's getting to be a smothering snow. I don't believe the elevated can run on time either, and we've got three blocks to walk to the next station." "We'd better be going, then." Father Honore bade the other man good night, and the two walked rapidly to the nearest elevated station on Second Avenue. It was an up-town train that rolled in covered with sleet and snow, and they were obliged to wait fully a quarter of an hour before a south bound one took them to the Battery. The wind was lessening, but a heavy snowfall had set in. They made their way across the park to the "tongue that laps the commerce of the world."