The Lizard made no reply as he started to leave the taxi.

"Take them to his attorney," said the girl, and she gave him the name
and address.

The Lizard grunted and entered his own cab. As he did so a man on a
motorcycle drew up on the opposite side and peered through the window.
The driver had started his motor as the newcomer approached. From her
cab the girl saw the Lizard and the man on the motorcycle look into each
other's face for a moment, then she heard the Lizard's quick admonition
to his driver, "Beat it, bo!"

A sharp "Halt!" came from the man on the motorcycle, but the taxicab
leaped forward, and, accelerating rapidly, turned to the left into the
road toward the city. The girl had guessed at the first glance that the
man on the motorcycle was a police officer. As the Lizard's taxi raced
away the officer circled quickly and started in pursuit. "No chance,"
thought the girl. "He'll get caught sure." She could hear the staccato
reports from the open exhaust of the motorcycle diminishing rapidly in
the distance, indicating the speed of the pursued and the pursuer.

And then from the distance came a shot and then another and another.
She leaned forward and spoke to her own driver. "Go on to Elmhurst," she
said, "and then come back to the city on the St. Charles Road."

It was after two o'clock in the morning when the Lizard entered an
apartment on Ashland Avenue which he had for several years used as a
hiding-place when the police were hot upon his trail. The people from
whom he rented the room were eminently respectable Jews who thought