The detective smiled wearily. "Don't be a fool, Calendar," he began. But the porter's hand fell upon his shoulder and the giant bent low to bring his mouth close to the other's ear. Kirkwood heard indistinctly his own name followed by Calendar's, and the words: "Never fear. I'll point him out."
"But the woman?" argued the detective, unconvinced, staring into the cab.
"Am I not at liberty to have a lady dine with me in a public restaurant?" interposed Kirkwood, without raising his voice.
The hard eyes looked him up and down without favor. Then: "Beg pardon, sir. I see my mistake," said the detective brusquely.
"I am glad you do," returned Kirkwood grimly. "I fancy it will bear investigation."
He mounted the step. "Imperial Theater," he told the driver, giving the first address that occurred to him; it could be changed. For the moment the main issue was to get the girl out of the range of the detective's interest.
He slipped into his place as the hansom wheeled into the turgid tide of west-bound traffic.
So Calendar had escaped, after all! Moreover, he had told the truth to Kirkwood.
By his side the girl moved uneasily. "Who was that man?" she inquired.
Kirkwood sought her eyes, and found them wholly ingenuous. It seemed that Calendar had not taken her into his confidence, after all. She was, therefore, in no way implicated in her father's affairs. Inexplicably the young man's heart felt lighter. "A mistake; the fellow took me for some one he knew," he told her carelessly.