Sure enough, halfway down the block they saw their man. He was walking
rapidly toward the bridge. Quickening their pace they followed.

Distinctly they saw the man go upon the bridge. Very plainly they heard
every footstep on the echoing planks. Then, just as they were about to
step upon the bridge, the footsteps ceased.

"Sh!" whispered Johnny, bringing his friend to a halt. "He's stopped;
maybe laying for us."

For a minute they stood there. The lapping of the water was the only
sound till, somewhere in the distance an elevated train rattled its way
north.

"C'mon," said Johnny. "We've met that bird in worse places than this; we
can meet him again."

But they did not meet him, although they walked the full length of the
bridge. There was not a place on the whole structure where a man could
hide, but they searched it thoroughly. Then Johnny searched the sides,
the abutments. He sent the gleam of his powerful flashlight into the
dark depths beneath, but all to no purpose. The man was gone.

"Humph!" said Johnny.

"Hisch!" breathed Hanada.

"Well, all I have to say," observed Johnny presently, "is that if the
old Chicago River has that fellow, he'll be cast ashore. The good old