The cable car which swung around the corner to the accompaniment of a jangling bell slowed at Mason’s signal.
“Got mad money?” he asked.
“Yes, of course.”
“All right, get on by yourself. Sit in back. I’ll sit out in front. We’re just two people who happened to have taken the car at the same corner.”
The motorman pulled back on the big brake. Mason caught the hand grip and swung aboard a couple of seconds before the car came to a stop, permitting Della Street to board the enclosed section. The motorman released levers, pulled on a grip, and the car rattled forward.
After what seemed an interminable interval of twisting and turning, clanging across intersections, and being braked down steep hills, the cable car slowed in response to Mason’s signal. The lawyer slid from his seat, swung Ms long legs out to the ground, and walked rapidly away. Della Street followed demurely a half block behind. Abruptly Mason turned, started back, caught Della Street’s eye, and raised his hat “Well, well, well,” he exclaimed. “Fancy seeing you here!”
Her face lit in a glad smile. “Perry!” she exclaimed.
Two Marines who had been quite obviously interested in Della Street turned disappointedly away. Mason said, “This is indeed a pleasure. How about something to eat?”
“Do you know, that’s a peculiar coincidence. I was just thinking of going to a restaurant.”
“There’s a very nice café in the next block,” he told her. “Locarno’s — noted for its broiled steaks.”