"Out of one of these houses along here?" He described a half-circle with his night-stick.
"Right in front of you."
"That's the Smith-Parvis house. They've got a couple of cars, my bucko. What you givin' me? Whadda you mean taxi?"
"She happens not to be one of the family. The courtesy of the port is not extended to her, you see."
"Hired girl?"
"In a way. I say, officer, be a good fellow. Keep your eye peeled for a taxi as you go along and send it up for us. She had one ordered, but—well, you can see for yourself. It isn't here."
"That's as plain as the nose on your face. I guess I'll just step up to the door and see if it's all right. Stay where you are. Looks queer to me."
"Oh, it isn't necessary to inquire, officer," broke in Jane nervously. "You have my word for it that it's all right."
"Oh, I have, have I? Fine! And what if them bags and things is filled with silver and God knows what? You don't—"
"Go ahead and inquire," said Trotter, pressing her arm encouragingly. "Ask the butler if he didn't call a cab for Miss Emsdale,—and also ask him why in thunder it isn't here."