But before they had gone another block Burke deemed it safe to stop.
He signaled Van Nostrand, who shut off the power of the miraculous car almost as easily as he had started it. Burke nearly shot over the windshield with the momentum.
"Some car!" he grunted. "You make it behave better than a horse, and I think it has more brains."
Nothing in the world could have pleased the millionaire more than this. He was an eager hunter himself by now.
"Say, supposing I take off my auto coat and run down that street and see where he goes to?"
"Good idea. I'll wait for you in the machine, if you're not afraid of the police department."
"You bet I'm not. Here, I'll put on this felt hat under the seat. They won't suspect me of being a detective, will they?"
"Hardly," laughed Burke, as the young society man emerged from his chrysalis of furs and goggles, immaculately dressed in a frock coat. He drew out an English soft hat and even a cane. "You are ready for war or peace, aren't you?"
Van Nostrand hurried down the street and turned the corner, changing his pace to one of an easy and debonair grace befitting the possessor of several racing stables of horses and machines.
He saw his man a few hundred yards down the street. Van Nostrand watched him sharply, and saw him hesitate, look about, and then turn to the left. He ascended the steps of a dwelling.