Dazed, and not daring to look up, the entangled man made a wild,
imploring gesture to the porter The latter caught it, stepped forward
and placed the note in the girl's hands.

"In case I am held up, go to the Astor. Will follow," were the words she
read quickly. With ready wit and only one stealthy glance at the two
men, Grace speedily followed in the wake of the too obsequious porter,
who placed her in a cab.

"To the Astor!" was the transferred instruction. The cabman, quick to
note the ambiguity in the direction given, prepared, with the subtlety
of his kind, for a long drive downtown.

However, the little comedy had not quite escaped attention. There was a
note of banter in the strident voice that again addressed Hugh, the
speaker accompanying it with a resounding slap on the back.

"Congratulations in order, old man? Come--you're caught--own up! Who is
she?" This with a crony-like dig in the ribs. "Runaway match, eh?"

At the other's greeting, Ridgeway promptly assured himself that all was
lost, and was about to return the welcome as best he could, when the
danger in the final words checked him, compelled a subterfuge.

Assuming a stony glare, an unnatural twist of the mouth, the "old man"
turned his bewildered glance upon the speaker, allowing it to resolve
itself into a sickening show of reproachfulness, and said in a voice
that almost made its owner laugh, it was so villainously artificial:

"You have the best of me, sir!"