"Nonsense!" said Mr. Harrison. "My wife witnessed the whole occurrence, and she says it was pure bravery."
Five minutes later a cab was called, and we all got in. I was not sorry to ride, for my long tramp from one place to another on the stone pavement had made me footsore. I did not mind walking, but the Darbyville roads were softer than those of Chicago.
It did not take long to reach the Palace of Pleasure.
"Just wait in the cab for a minute or two," said the sergeant to me. "If he sees you first, he may make a scene."
"Most likely he's gone out," I returned.
The sergeant and Mr. Harrison left the carriage and entered the building.
I awaited their return impatiently. Would they get their man? And would Mr. Aaron Woodward be along?
Five—ten minutes dragged slowly by. Then the two returned.
"He's not in the place, and no one knows where he has gone," said the officer.
"He can't be far off," I replied. "No doubt he and Mr. Woodward have gone off to look for me."