"She and the Captain are missing," says I. "That's what comes of my gettin' chatty about business affairs. I didn't dream, though, that Auntie was such a plunger."
"I can't believe it," says Vee. "There's been some ridiculous mistake. But I can't imagine where she could have gone so early."
"Couldn't have had time to pack a trunk, could she?" I asks. "If not she'd be coming back some time to-day. Shall we wait here a while, Mr. Ellins?"
"I think I prefer a meeting on neutral grounds," says he.
So we goes downstairs and paces up and down the sidewalk, watchin' the avenue traffic sleuthy.
"Course she wouldn't start off without baggage," I suggests.
"I'm not so certain," growls Old Hickory.
Ten minutes we waited—fifteen; and then I spots a yellow taxi rollin' up from downtown. Inside I gets a glimpse of a black straw lid with purple flowers on it.
"Here she comes!" I sings out to Old Hickory. "Yep, that's her! And say! The Captain's with her. Quick! Dive into our cab."
He's a little heavy on his feet, Mr. Ellins is, and someway he manages to get himself hung up on the cab door. Anyway, Auntie must have seen us doin' the wild scramble, and got suspicious; for, just as they got alongside, she pounds on the front window, shouts something at the driver, and instead of stoppin' the other taxi veers off and goes smokin' uptown.