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 his, and his alone, not to be invaded by others, no matter how strong they might be in their own regions.

He snapped out orders in a low, tense tone and sent a man to relay them to the other cars. Four on each side. One each! His plan was simple and direct. His column would move forward, swing into the road beside the other, then rake the enemy with a terrific fire, annihilating them before they could recover from their surprise at the sudden attack. Each of his cars was to confine its mur­derous attention to one of the others, the one nearest.

Rapidly his column moved forward and swung into the other road. Tony lifted his machine gun and squeezed the trigger. The vicious rat-tat-tat deafened him but he could hear the same stutter­ing sound coming from his other cars. Then from the cars of the supposed enemy, clear and sharp above the firing, came the Clang! Clang! Clang! of gongs.

"Jeez!" groaned Tony. "It's cops!"

Instead of gangsters, those four cars contained squads of detectives from the bureau. What a horrible mistake! Not that he hated shooting cops,