Sexton, by now largely recovered from his late experiences, broke into a run, with West following closely behind.
Both were eager to escape from the immediate neighbourhood unseen.
Suddenly Sexton stumbled, but arose almost instantly to his feet again, grasping something which gleamed like silver in his hand.
"Not hurt, are you ?" asked West anxiously.
"No; what's this I found ?" The other took it impatiently.
"What is it?
Why a small pocket knife, of course.

Come on, man, don't stand mooning there." He slipped the article carelessly into his pocket.
"Let's get out into the open while the road is clear." "Where are you going ?" Sexton panted, endeavouring to keep beside him.
"Have you anything planned out ?" "Not very much; Milwaukee Avenue first.

There is sure to be an all-night restaurant somewhere in sight.

Telephone for a taxi, don't dare to risk a street car, we both look too tough." "Suppose they will follow us ?" "Hardly; they will have no idea which way we went, or how long we'll have been gone.

All Hobart will think about now will be getting out of sight himself.