CHAPTER XXXI
THE MAN WITH THE SWORD
"Take me back! Take me to the place you brought me from," I cried to the stooping figure.
The others had come up. The chauffeur was vague and mumbling. He was drunk enough to be stubborn, cautious. But money quickened him.
He had picked me up, he said, "in one of the streets...." he couldn't say positively which, and he mentioned several. It might be any one of them; but it wasn't far from St. John's Wood Station.
In spite of the man's condition I wanted to get into his cab. I had a horror of losing him.
"I have taken his number," the Healer said, as though that were enough.
And all the while—— But we are coming, Betty! Coming....
The other driver had been summoned. I heard the names of streets and of police-stations. They settled which would be the one.
"Will you drive very fast?" I asked. "I will give you all I have if you'll drive fast."
The drunken chauffeur followed us in his swerving, rocking cab. I leaned out of the window all the way, weeping, praying. And I never took my eyes away from the only clue.