blocks ahead. It hadn’t slowed up very much when a man leaned far out and stepped off. He was a tall man, but didn’t look tall on account of his shoulder spread. He didn’t check his momentum, but used it to carry him across the sidewalk and out of sight.
We stopped where the man had left the car.
I gave the driver too much money and told him:
“Go back to Townsend Street and tell the copper in the station that I’ve chased Babe McCloor into the S.P. yards.”