"Keep coming; we'll get him!"

Chester made no reply, for he knew none was expected. He kept close
behind his friend.

Now, suddenly, the fugitive reached the edge of the crowd. For a single
moment he paused, and gazed back at his pursuers. Once more he waved a
hand at Hal, and then, turning, started off at a run.

Hal, seeing that his quarry was about to make good his escape, suddenly
grew angry. Bringing some tactics learned on the football field into
play, he dashed forward, hurling spectators to right and left. In
another moment he, too, had reached the edge of the crowd and, with a
cry, dashed ahead.

He did not pause to see whether Chester was behind him. All he thought of
was to overtake the fugitive.

Chester, in attempting to follow his friend, stumbled over an
outstretched foot and fell heavily to the ground. He was not badly hurt,
but he had struck on his face and for a moment he was dazed. He dragged
himself quickly to his feet and moved forward again. Some distance ahead
he saw that Hal was gaining upon the fugitive.

Down the wide street ran the fugitive, with Hal close behind and gaining
at every stride. As the sound of pursuing footsteps became plainer, the
man looked back over his shoulder. Then he redoubled his efforts; but
still Hal gained.