“Oh, yes!” cried Margit.
“Hop in, then. Tell me where to go, and we’ll get there if a policeman doesn’t hold us up on the way.”
Margit whispered in his ear. Chet looked surprised; then nodded and helped her into the seat beside him. In a minute they were out of the crowd of other autos and were speeding down Whiffle Street and into Market.
When they struck the main thoroughfare the young fellow had to drive the car more circumspectly; but he made such time that more than one traffic officer held up a warning hand and shook his head at them.
“Sure you know where you want to go, Margaret?” Chet asked his companion once, as they dodged around a truck and turned off into a long and narrow side street where the class of tenements on either hand were of the cheaper quality.
“Yes,” nodded the girl. “I should know. I was there myself.”
“Oh! that’s where the Gyps, have their encampment in town?” exclaimed Chet.
“Yes.”
“And you think Eve has been caught by the same people who held you?”
“Yes. I believe so.”