But he managed to plaster them all on before the cab stopped and after one glance in the little mirror he was confident the disguise would answer.
When he stepped out of the taxi, at almost the very spot where he had boarded it, he felt that a big weight had been lifted from his shoulders.
“How do you like me?” he asked the chauffeur, gayly. “Is it an improvement?”
“I wouldn’t say yis nor no to that,” said the chauffeur, “but ’tiz a disguise, an’ that’s what ye were wantin’. Thim eyebrows is grand.”
“Thanks,” laughed Officer 666, “an’ here’s a wan hundred dollar bill which asks ye to forget me uniform, me number an’ me face.”
“’Tiz done,” agreed the chauffeur, tucking away the bill, “on’y take a tip from a wise gink an’ keep deep in the shadders. An’ whin ye pinch your frind don’t let him holler too loud.”
The yellow taxi was gone with a rush, leaving Gladwin to wonder at the amazingly shrewd guess of its pilot.
“When I pinch me frind,” he murmured. “’Twas just what I said to Phelan. Why”–––
He was gazing after the taxicab when from the opposite direction there suddenly rolled into view a vast touring car with a familiar figure at the wheel, and alongside the familiar figure a very pretty girl.