At last! And that scared look of the pale-faced man, and the strange, heavy case on the cab-roof, with every suggestion of haste, while he stood there in the middle of the road as if a victim to nightmare, till the quickly driven vehicle was too far off for him to read the number. Suddenly the power to move came back, and, dashing forward in the middle of the road, Stratton shouted to the man to stop. "He won't stop--not likely," growled another cabman, who had seen Stratton's escape. "Shouldn't loaf across the--Here, sir," he cried suddenly, as a thought flashed across his brain. "Hi! guv'nor; jump in--I'll ketch him for you." He whipped his horse up alongside of Stratton, who caught at the idea, and, seizing the side of the cab, sprang in. "Quick! Five shillings if you keep that cab in sight." The wide road was open, and pretty free from vehicles, and the horse went fast, but the cab in which Brettison was seated had a good start, reached the cross street, and entered the continuation of that which he was pursuing. Stratton's man drove up as a number of vehicles were crowding to go east and west, and the flow of those from north and south was stopped by a stalwart policeman; while raging at the sudden check, Stratton ground his teeth with rage. "All right, sir," came down through the little trap in the roof; "he'll let us go acrost directly, and I'll ketch up the cab in no time." They were not arrested much above a minute, but the interval was sufficient to give Brettison's cab a good start, and when leave was given to go, the case on the roof was invisible, and the question arose in Stratton's mind--which way had it gone? into one of the station yards, or straight on over the bridge into South London? He raised himself a little to peer over the horse's head, but he could see nothing, and turning round, he thrust up the trap. "Faster--faster!" he cried. "You must overtake it. Faster!" "All right, sir," shouted the man hoarsely; and crack! crack! went the long heavy whip on one and then on the other side of the well-bred but worn-out screw between the shafts. The result was a frantic plunge forward, and though the driver dragged at and worked the bit savagely, the horse tore on at a gallop for about fifty yards, with the cab swaying from side to side; then the tiny flash of equine fire died out, and the horse's knees gave way. Down it went with a crash. Stratton was dashed forward heavily against the curved splash-board, to which he clung, and the next thing he saw was the driver rising from somewhere beside the horse, that lay quite still now on its side, while shouts, the faces of people who crowded up, and the vehicles that passed on either side, all seemed dim, confused, and distant. Then bells of a curiously sharp, quick tone were ringing loudly in his ears. "Hurt, sir?"