They were away like a flash. Down a dark alley, over a fence, with
Johnny's handcuffs jangling, they sped. Then, after crossing a street
and leaping into a yard filled with junk and scrap iron, they paused.

"Let's see," said Hanada.

He took Johnny's wrist, and after twisting the iron bracelets and
working for a moment with a bit of rusty wire, he unlocked the handcuffs
and threw them in the scrap heap.

"Clumsy things! Belong there," he grunted.

"But," said Johnny slowly, "what's the big idea? They'll get us again,
and running away will only get us in bad. They'll think those Radicals
were in cahoots with us."

"I think not," said Hanada. "We left them one or two of the Radicals for
samples. But that doesn't much matter now. They will get me, yes. And
they will not let me go either, not even under bond. But you, you have
done nothing. They will let you go. My testimony will set you free. Then
you must carry on the hunt and the fight, which they will keep me from
continuing because they do not know what they are doing. That's why I
must have a little time to talk to you before they take me; time to
explain everything, and to tell you how very important it is that you
get that Russian, and all those that are with him."

"My room," whispered Johnny, now breathless with interest. "My room; the
police do not know about it. We might be able to hide there for hours.
We can reach it by the next bridge and by alleys and roofs. C'mon!"