"The devil you did!" With a snort the man strode in to the stoop. "Do
you know who you're talking to?" he demanded wrathfully, towering over
P. Sybarite, momentarily forgetful of the girl.

Stepping aside, as if in alarm, she moved behind the fellow, and
darted through the gate.

"I don't," P. Sybarite admitted amiably; "but your nose annoys me."

He fixed that feature with an irritating glare.

"You impudent puppy!" stormed the other. "Who are you?"

"Who--me?" echoed P. Sybarite in surprise. (The girl was now
instructing the chauffeur.) "Why," he drawled, "I'm the guy that put
the point in disappointment. Sure you've heard of _me_?"

At the curb, the door of the taxicab closed with a slam.
Simultaneously the drone of the motor thickened to a rumble. The man
with the twisted mouth turned just in time to see it drawing away.

"_Hi!_" he cried in surprise and dismay.

But the taxi didn't pause; to the contrary, it stretched out toward
Ninth Avenue at a quickening pace.

With profanity appreciating the fact that he had been tricked, he
picked up his heels in pursuit. But P. Sybarite had not finished with
him. Deftly plucking the man back by the tail of his full-skirted