They looked at him curiously. But what business of theirs was it? The money felt good.
"All right, bo," they agreed.
Thundering down the platform came the afternoon train, a great event in the town life.
As the baggage was being tossed off, the passengers alighted and the five hackmen swarmed at them.
"Keb, sir, kerridge. Taxi, lady!"
From the Pullman alighted a widow, in deep mourning. As she got off and moved down the platform, it was apparent that she walked with a pronounced limp.
At the end of the platform, the chauffeurs were still calling, while the newcomer looked over the crowd hastily. Suddenly he caught sight of the face of the widow. He stepped forward, as she approached. The others held back as they had agreed and paid no attention. It was like forcing a card.
He held the door open and she entered the cab, unsuspecting. "Mr. Del
Mar's," she directed, simply.
As the new taxicab driver cranked his engine and climbed into the seat, he was careful to let no action of his, however small, betray the intense satisfaction he felt at the working of his scheme.
He pulled away from the station. On through the pretty country roads the chauffeur drove the heavily veiled widow until at last they came to Del Mar's bungalow.