"At once."

"Did I understand you to imply that I am at liberty to accompany
you?" inquired Professor Gehren.

"If you care to take the risk."

"Think there'll be excitement?" asked Bertram languidly. "I'd like
to go along."

Average Jones nodded. "One or a dozen; I fancy it will be all the
same to Smith."

"You think we'll find him dead." Young Mr. McIntyre leaped to this
conclusion. "Count me in on it."

"N-no; not dead."

"Perhaps his friend 'Mercy' has gone back on him, then," suggested
Mr. McIntyre, unabashed.

"Yes; I rather think that's it," said Average Jones, in a curious
accent. "'Mercy' has gone back on him, I believe, though I can't
quite accurately place her as yet. Here's the taxi," he broke off.
"All aboard that's going aboard. But it's likely to be dangerous."

Across town and far up the East Side whizzed the car, over the
bridge that leads away from Manhattan Island to the north, and
through quiet streets as little known to the average New Yorker as
are Hong Kong and Caracas. In front of a frame house it stopped.