“But she must go with me first.” Florence was quick in recovery.
“No tricks,” he repeated.
“None at all. You may go with us. Only—” she hesitated, “we have but two seats.”
The man bent a steady look upon her. “You look all right. I’ll meet you at the box office after the show.”
“Oh, thank—thanks! But we must rush!” Florence was halfway out of the door.
Down the stairs they raced, then round the corner to a taxi stand.
Only once they paused before reaching the theatre. Leaping from the taxi, Florence dashed into a telegraph office. There she sent the following message to Sun-Tan Tillie at her home in the north woods:
“Bring the trunk at once. Your expenses will be paid.”
On returning to the taxi, she murmured, more to herself than to the gypsy woman:
“So they were in that trunk all the time! How perfectly marvelous!”