“Who’s Arym?” Myra asked, puzzled.
“Your other self, my pet,” I said lightly. “That’s what she calls herself. If I get her, then you’ll be in the clear.”
“But how are you going to do that?”
“I don’t know. I’m not even going to think about it. I must first find a hide-out for you.” Then I remembered Harriet. “I know,” I said, and leaning forward I told the driver to stop at the first public telephone.
“This do you?” he asked, cutting across the traffic and drawing up outside a drug store.
“Yeah,” I said, then to Myra, “wait here, I’ve got to ‘phone.”
I found there was only one telephone booth when I got into the drug store and some dame was using it.
I went over to the soda-jerker behind the counter. “Is that lady going to be long?” I asked.
“I’ve got a taxi outside and I’m in a hurry.”
He shook his head. “She’s about through,” he said. “Anyway, I figure it that way. She’s been in there since noon and she must have used up most of the air in that little booth by now.