“Yes, sir—but, oh, Mr. Stone—” and then, at a gesture from the great detective the boy paused, abashed, and remained silent.
“Now, Miss Ames,” Stone began, “in Mrs. Embury’s presence, I’ll ask you—”
“You won’t ask me anything, sir,” she returned crisply. “I’m going out. I’ve a very important errand to do.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Elliott said; “it’s almost six o’clock, Aunt Abby. Where are you going?”
“I’ve got an errand—a very important errand—an appointment, in fact. I must go—don’t you dare oppose me, Mason. You’ll be sorry if you do!”
Even as she spoke, the old lady was scurrying to her room, from which she returned shortly, garbed for the street.
“All right,” Stone said, in reply to a whisper from Fibsy, and the boy offered, respectfully:
“Let me go with you, Miss Ames. It ain’t fittin’ you should go alone. It’s ‘most dark.”
“Come on, boy,” Aunt Abby regarded him kindly; “I’d be glad of your company.”
At the street door, the old lady asked for a taxicab, and the strangely assorted pair were soon on their way.