you, but you must not stop; you must hunt as never before, you must get
that man!"

There came, not the expected tattoo of police billies on the door, but a
shrill whisper through the key-hole:

"Johnny," the voice said, "are you there? Let me in. I seen it! I seen
it! I get the century note you promised me! Let me in!"

* * * * *

When Mazie entered the taxi with the man who was an entire stranger to
her she did it on the impulse of the moment. The swift sequence of
events had carried her off her feet. First, she had been startled into
the hope that Johnny still lived; then she had been assured by the
police sergeant that he could not possibly be living, only to be told a
moment later by this stranger that he was still alive.

Once she had settled back against the cushions and felt the jolt of the
taxi over the car tracks, she began to have misgivings. Was this a trap?
Had she better call to the driver and demand to be allowed to alight? A
glance at her fellow traveler tended to reassure her. He was
undoubtedly a foreigner, but was an honest-looking fellow and neatly
dressed.

As the cab lurched into a side street toward the river, she again
experienced misgivings; but this time it was the faint hope still
lingering in her breast of seeing her good pal once more that kept her
in her seat.