“Follow my instructions,” Chick directed, apprehending that he might be covertly watched. “Drive straight down this avenue and turn the first corner to the left. After having turned it to a point out of view from here, stop at once and drop me. Then drive on quickly and go about your business. Understand?”
“Sure. That don’t take a very long head.”
Chick sprang into the taxicab, and without looking back he was whirled speedily around the corner, a block from the chemist’s residence. He then sprang out—and the chauffeur uttered an exclamation of surprise.
He did not recognize his passenger.
Chick had put on a disguise and knocked his soft felt hat into an entirely different shape.
“Drive on,” he commanded, giving the chauffeur a bank note. “Move lively and forget the quick change.”
“Bet you!” grinned the driver, speeding away.
Chick returned to the corner and peered cautiously around it.
The man in baggy brown was just descending the steps of Professor Arden’s residence.
“Aha! That does settle it,” thought Chick. “He wanted to know who had called on the chemist, and he went to inquire, probably offering some plausible reason. He evidently found out, too, judging from the celerity with which he is departing. You shall also find, young man, that there are longer heads than yours.”