CHAPTER XXVIII

TWELVE But all Craig wanted to do was to get a hold on the count that the count couldn’t break. Then he was running his prisoner off through the dark garden in the direction of the alley where the taxi was waiting. There Craig and the chauffeur searched the count, not as thoroughly as they should have done, and handcuffed him, not as carefully as they should have done. There was a dial on the front of the cab--eleven thirty. The chauffeur was speeding. Craig, with the black mass of the count at his side, watched th…