He was promptly obeyed. The car shot across the street regardless of traffic rules, and was brought shuddering to a halt beside the left-hand curb. Gerard sprang out and went to join the man who had stopped beside the carriage to wait for his pursuer.
Left in the car, Corrie took a leisurely survey of the street, preparatory to withdrawing from his illegal situation. But it was already too late. Even while he looked, a blue-garbed figure appeared around a corner, perceived the south-bound automobile beside the east curb and marched upon the offender.
To some temperaments there is an undeniable exhilaration in conflict. Corrie puckered his lips to a soundless whistle, settled back in his seat, and waited.
"What are you doing over here?" the officer challenged, arriving. "Don't you know how to drive? You're under arrest."
"What for?" Corrie asked unmoved.
"What for? How did you get a chauffeur's license? For driving on the wrong side of the street, of course."
"I'm not driving."
"Don't be funny, young fellow! For stopping on the wrong side, if you like it better, then."
"I'm not stopping."