Together they sped to the nearest corner. It proved to be Ninth Avenue, and there, in the shadow of the elevated, they found a policeman on duty.
It is true that Dan was not as coherent as he might have been and that the story he told sounded like a pipe-dream; but the policeman was undeniably slow of comprehension. At first he smiled good-naturedly.
"Aw, youse run along home now," he said. "I'm onto youse!"
"But, look here," Dan protested, "this is serious. I'm not drunk—I'm just excited and scared. Now listen. There's a man held prisoner back yonder by a lot of Germans, and I shot one of them and knocked another down—and we've got to get him free...."
"Tut, tut!" said the officer, and then he looked at Dan closely, and then he looked at Kasia, and then he took off his helmet and scratched his head. "See here, now," he said, finally, "I'll call headquarters, if you say so—but if you are stringin' me...."
"I'm not stringing you!" Dan cried. "And for heaven's sake be quick! Every minute we waste...."
The passers-by had begun to stop and stare curiously, and the thought flashed through Dan's mind that he might collect a posse....
But the patrolman had made up his mind.
"Come along with me," he said, and led the way into the rear room of the corner drugstore and telephoned to his station for instructions. He enlarged somewhat upon the perils of the expedition, as Dan had recounted them, and when he came out of the booth, it was with a distinctly relieved air.
"The sergeant says for us to wait here," he said, "and he'll rush some detectives up right away."