By the time Joe turned into the lot, Tabbs was three hundred feet ahead and running hard. But he was no match for a young man who was in the pink of condition and who was able to circle the bases in fifteen seconds flat. In less than a minute Joe was close on his heels. Tabbs turned and twisted desperately and just as Joe reached out his hand to grasp him, he dodged under his arms and doubled on his tracks. Joe swung around as though on a pivot, and in another moment his hand was on the collar of the panting man. He dug his knuckles into Tabbs’ neck and the latter ceased to struggle.