“I guess you are,” he laughed. “It’s just the morning for a little run. You’re certainly a dandy sprinter.”
A look of gratified vanity came over Tabbs.
“Let’s try it again,” he suggested. “I’ll chase you this time and I’ll bet you can’t get away from me.”
“That’s a good idea,” agreed Joe, “but first I want to rest a little. It isn’t every one who can keep it up like you, you know. Suppose we go down to your rooms and have a little talk about lodge matters first. Where are you living?”
“Up here in Amsterdam Avenue,” replied Tabbs, promptly. “Come right along.”
They walked out to the avenue, Joe cudgeling his brains as to what the next step should be. As they reached the corner, he saw one of the policemen who had been assigned to duty at the Polo Grounds. He was in citizen’s clothes and bowed cordially to Joe.
“Excuse me just a moment, while I speak to this friend of mine,” said Joe to his companion.
“Certainly,” said Tabbs, politely.
Joe led Reardon, the policeman, aside.