At that moment Greg saw an opening, and he obeyed the order quicker than they looked for. Throwing out his clutch and applying brakes, he let the other car shoot ahead. Turning out behind it, he darted up a side street.
Their pursuers carried on a hundred feet or more had to turn around in the Drive and come back. Cars bound up-town got in their way. Greg might have succeeded in giving them the slip altogether had it not been for the other cars which had taken up the chase out of sheer excitement. These cars were far enough in the rear to follow Greg directly into the side street and to point the way to the policeman when he came up.
Greg twisted and turned to the best of his ability; off the Drive the streets were deserted; into West End Avenue, into another side street, into the Drive again. A whole string of cars was stretched out behind him now. Rarely had the sporty chauffeurs such a chance to defy the speed laws. It was like pandemonium sweeping through those astonished quiet streets. The little flivver was like a mangy fox pursued by a pack of sleek hounds.
Greg's tricks were of no avail. Having lost the advantage of his first turn, he could not shake them off. Meanwhile his radiator had almost boiled dry, and the exhausted flivver was missing badly and ever slowing down.
"No go!" said Greg grimly at last. "I'll only melt down her bearings if I don't stop."
He quietly drew up beside the curb on Riverside.
"Mind you are to say nothing!" Amy swiftly whispered. "You are just a cabman that I happened to pick up!"
"I can't let him carry you back!" Greg protested scowling.
"You must!" she cried with desperate earnestness. "If you don't do what I tell you, you will force me to take his part against you!"
"How can I see you in his power!"