"The regular fare is fifty cents."
"Is it any of your business?" demanded the hackman angrily. "Do you want to take the bread out of a poor man's mouth?"
"Yes, if the poor man undertakes to cheat a boy!" answered the quiet man keenly.
"It's ridiculous expectin' to pay fifty cents for a ride of three or four miles," grumbled the hackman.
"The distance isn't over a mile and a quarter, and you are not allowed to ask over fifty cents. My boy, I advise you to call another hack."
"Jump in," said the hackman, fearful of losing his fare.
"I think I will get in, too, as I am going to that part of the city," said the small man, in whom my readers will probably recognize the detective already referred to.
"That'll be extra."
"Of course," said the detective. "I understand that, and I understand how much extra," said the stranger significantly.
As the man and boy rattled through the streets, they fell into a conversation, and Grit, feeling that he was with a friend, told his plan.