"Because they tied my hands," John Quincy reminded him. "I've narrowed the search, down for you to the taxi drivers of Honolulu."
"Hundreds of them, my boy."
"More than that, I've given you the first two numbers on the license plate of the car. If you're any good at all, you ought to be able to land that watch now."
"Oh, we'll land it," Hallet said. "Give us time."
Time was just what John Quincy had to give them. Monday came and went. Miss Minerva was bitterly sarcastic.
"Patience are a very lovely virtue," John Quincy told her. "I got that from Charlie."
"At any rate," she snapped, "it are a virtue very much needed with Captain Hallet in charge."
In another direction, too, John Quincy was called upon to exercise patience. Agatha Parker was unaccountably silent regarding that short peremptory cable he had sent on his big night in town. Was she offended? The Parkers were notoriously not a family who accepted dictation. But in such a vital matter as this, a girl should be willing to listen to reason.
Late Tuesday afternoon Chan telephoned from the station-house—unquestionably Chan this time. Would John Quincy do him the great honor to join him for an early dinner at the Alexander Young café?
"Something doing, Charlie?" cried the boy eagerly.