“How did Hercules stand the disappointment?” asked Katherine, with quick sympathy.
“He’s pretty badly cut up about it,” replied Sherry. “He had quite a bad spell with his heart on the train. He says he’s had a ‘token’ that he’ll never see Marse Tad, as he calls him, again. I’m afraid he won’t, myself. Even I’ve got a gloomy hunch that fate has the cards stacked against us this time. From Hercules’ account, I don’t think Dr. Phillips will live to reach South America.”
“How unutterably tragic that would be!” sighed Katherine, beginning to feel a load of world-sorrow pressing on her heart. What a dismal business life was, to be sure!
Sherry interrupted her doleful reverie. “But tell me, Katherine, what, in the name of all that’s fantastic, were you doing here in this neighborhood at this time of night?”
Katherine explained briefly, and in her overwrought state, burst into tears at the mention of the watch.
“And you say there was a footpad actually following you?” asked Sherry in consternation. “You were running away from this man when you fell under the car? Where is he now?”
Katherine shook her head. “I don’t know. He slipped and fell just before I did, and I don’t know what became of him after that.”
Sherry gave a long whistle, and, thrusting his head out of the taxi, gave a look around.
“There’s a man coming up the street now,” he said. “He’s limping badly. Is that the man? He’s probably trying to slip away quietly in the excitement.”
Katherine raised her head and glanced out. “That’s the man,” she exclaimed. “He’s the same one that followed me. Why, he’s coming over here toward us!” she said, in a tone of surprise. “How queer! Is he going to hold us all up, I wonder?”