Part 40 (2/2)

”Hide these,” he ordered. ”Get out of here, quick!” he told the chauffeur. ”Mr. Loring will tell you where to drive.”

”They're hid all right,” Polly a.s.sured him. ”What are they?”

”Amalgamated Steel bonds representing Gresham's half of my million,”

rasped Johnny, throwing Gresham's weight off his arm. ”Ask me the rest of it the next time we meet. Just now I have to see to getting this thief pinched.”

”As your attorney I'll have to caution you, Johnny, that your action is entirely illegal,” Loring confidentially stated.

”They're my bonds, bought with my money,” a.s.serted Johnny.

”I know, but it has to be proved,” argued Loring. ”Your only way to get possession of them is through the courts. Your present action has no better legal status than highway robbery.”

”I got the bonds, didn't I?” demanded Johnny. ”Now you move. Here comes a copper, and if he gets those bonds for evidence I won't see them again for months.”

A policeman appeared in the exact center of the perspective, followed by a faithful emissary of the Ember Detective Agency.

”The bonds are no good to you just now unless Gresham a.s.signs them,”

insisted Loring almost tearfully, and both Constance and Polly gave up in despair.

”That's right,” agreed Johnny, glancing over his shoulder at the policeman and the indignant detective. Suddenly he pushed Gresham headlong into the midst of the party and jumped in after him. ”Hold him, Loring!” he directed, and dismissed the stupefied Gresham from his mind.

With remarkable deftness he had extracted a single bill from his pocket and thrust it into the hand of the experienced chauffeur.

”Break the limit!” he tensely ordered.

”Where?” asked the chauffeur, whirling out of the line with a jerk.

”Any place,” and the chauffeur, being a night worker and understanding his business, accepted that direction with grinning relish and left the depot policeman trying to remember the number of his machine.

As they went up the incline from the ticket-lobby door Johnny arranged the bewildered girls on the two little front seats, and wedged the cowed Gresham carefully in between himself and Loring on the back seat.

The chauffeur, knowing the only regular time-killing drive in the city, hit out for Central Park. Gresham was incapable of thought or action.

As they crossed Forty-second Street Johnny touched his driver on the shoulder, and that handy criminal came to an immediate halt at the curb. Johnny opened the door. Gresham moved. Loring quickly clutched him by the knee. The chauffeur looked back.

”Leave it to me,” he suggested in most friendly tones. ”You don't need to change taxis.”

”I'd feel more like a real sport if I hired two,” Johnny argued, studying his man intently.

”I've got two numbers and I'll switch 'em,” offered the a.s.sistant brigand.

”I think the police must know you by name,” commented Johnny, ”but I'll take a chance,” and giving Polly's address he climbed back.

”Shall we hide the bonds?” whispered Polly as she prepared to alight at the Parsons home.

”Certainly not,” replied Johnny. ”I have to get them signed,” and he pressed the hand of Constance with proper warmth as he helped her out.

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