Another man came to the cigar counter, also bought some cigars, picked up some matches, and with it the slip of paper.
So there were two.
At five minutes past the hour Strong strolled to the door, made a frantic dash for the machine, which seemed very slow to start. A moment later two men entered the machine immediately next, gave the driver instructions to follow the first machine, which by now had dashed off.
The first car went south. You may remember that Mrs. Marsh lived north. The second car followed. The occupants could never suspect the innocent appearing chauffeur of that second car, as he swore and raved at the policeman who had ordered him to stop to let the east and west traffic go by at the side street. The frantic men inside were assured that he would make up the lost time; that he knew the number of the car he was following. But he never found that car. He became very stupid, although always pleasant.
John Strong reached the home of Mrs. Marsh, certain that he had eluded the pursuit.
“Mrs. Marsh, I believe?” he asked as she opened the door.
“I am Mrs. Marsh,” she answered.
“I am a friend of some friends of Ted. The main reason for his coming down to Chicago is to see me, although I am sure he will think that seeing you will count for even more than that.”
“Did you get word from him?” further asked Strong.
“Yes, I got a telegram. It said he was coming to see you, but that I was to let anyone else who might ask think that he was coming because I sent for him. I do not understand.”