Then Myra took fright again.
"Take me home!" she cried. "I want to see my mamma!"
From that she passed into wild sobbing, taxing all Dave Darrin's powers to ease her mind.
"You're going home, Myra," he wound up. "You're going to see your mother."
"My papa is a bad man!"
"Well, he's not here now," smiled Dave. "Did you ever hear of Dick Prescott?"
"Yes; he's a nice boy."
"You're right he is," added Dave with enthusiasm. "Well, Dick is up outside, driving the horses, and he'll take us home by the way that it's best to go."
"Here we are in Main Street," announced Greg wonderingly.
Dave thought he began to understand Prescott's plan, but he said nothing. A few moments later the cab turned down one of the side streets, then halted before a cluster of lights.