"I'll put you wise to the ropes," said the theological valet in a hurried voice. "Come on. Aren't you willing to help?"
"Of course I am," said Mary, indignantly. "I'll be ready in a jiffy."
When she came down-stairs again Pete was waiting at the front door, which he closed gently behind them. In front of the house stood a taxi, into which he thrust her with much haste, following himself, after he spoke an order to the driver.
"Where are we going?" asked Mary, as the taxi gathered speed.
"Jefferson Market—it's a police court."
She could not repress a shiver.
"You said a raid? What—what kind?"
"Listen," said Pete. "Now this is what happened: the boss went to a scrap—a prize-fight."
Mary, sitting in the darkness of the taxi, compressed her lips. He had made her believe that he was going into society!