CHAPTER XXII.
HEN DUTCHER IS MODEST For an instant Dave hesitated, reluctant to leave a comrade injured.
"Get after him!" ordered young Prescott, rising somewhat slowly.

"Don't let the fellow get out of sight." At that direct command Dave Darrin darted around the corner, going fast down the side street.

A moment later Dick hove into sight, though some distance to the rear of his now more agile chum.
As he ran Darrin felt like rubbing his eyes.

By the aid of the street lamps he could see fairly well down to the next corner.

The fugitive hadn't had time to cover all that distance in the few moments that he had been out of view.
"Dave!" called Dick, though his voice at first wasn't very loud.