Delancy got out, his body bathed in a cold sweat. The proprietor of this gas station was in the employ of Delancy's boss who had planned every step of the stick-up at the Weedham plant and the subsequent get-away. Delancy had supreme faith in his boss. For the first time since he had sighted that strange figure in the roadster that had followed them, he began to feel a little bit secure. Delancy entered the filling station office, followed by his mob. The proprietor, a huge bear of a man in brown coveralls, scowled at Delancy. He said: "The way you came in here, it's a wonder you didn't bring a whole squad of cops with you. What's the matter, anyway?" Delancy didn't answer just then. The proprietor of the station wasn't alone in his office. There was a dame. She was a tall, well-dressed woman with wax-pale skin and black hair that was parted in the middle and slicked back to a soft knot. She had peculiarly cold green eyes that were tilted at the outer extremities. Her lips were full, soft and brilliantly rouged. Delancy jerked his head at the woman and asked of the proprietor: "Who's that, Burkey?" Burkey shrugged big shoulders. "She's from the boss. She's got a message for you." The woman was beautiful. But there was something about the chilly expression in her eyes that made Delancy feel decidedly uncomfortable. She did not smile as she opened a black purse and produced an envelope which she handed to Delancy. While Burkey was opening the steam valves that would spray hot vapor on the car in the wash room, Delancy tore open the letter which the woman had handed him. Inside was a slip of paper on which had been typed the following: "The bearer will ride with you into Manhattan." There was no signature, but in its stead was the crude drawing of an eye, formed by two bowed lines that represented lids and two circles, one within the other, representing iris and pupil. Delancy knew that the message was from that man he had never seen--the big boss, the man who knew all the answers. Delancy touched a match to the message. He looked at the woman with the cold green eyes. "What's the idea?" he asked. "I suppose," she said in a quiet voice, "that it will look less suspicious if you are seen driving a car with a woman beside you. Your men are to get into the baggage trunk at the rear or else crouch down on the floor of the rear compartment." Delancy snorted. "That's nuts. There ain't any sense to this. It was a clean job. We didn't mix with any coppers." "No?" she said, elevating her eyebrows. "Nevertheless, you will carry out the orders. The Eye knows what he's doing." CHAPTER III _Haven Of The Hunted_