He waited.
Just at twelve they came.
The hour for unmasking had arrived, and there was quite a high time within.
This displeased the detective, for he was afraid lest he might not hear what he desired.
The couple walked down the pavement in search of the carriage, which was waiting near by, the driver having received instructions.
They soon reached it.
Darrell hovered near.
The bull fighter assisted his companion in and then entered himself.
“Where to, sir?” asked the driver, probably not knowing but what they had another engagement at some private ball.
A burst of laughter from the house deadened the reply, but Darrell’s keen ears caught:“—Twenty-seventh Street.”