“You wasn’t either of you hurt, was you?”
That was the first remark the driver had made that showed any solicitude for his passengers.
“No,” Matt answered. “Let’s get back and see if we can repair the taxi.”
When they reached the taxicab, the girl was sitting on a stone near the machine. Her long tresses had been replaced under the derby hat, and she looked sufficiently boyish to keep up the deception—so far as the driver was concerned. Matt passed her with hardly a glance, and helped the driver make his investigation.
No serious damage had been done to the taxicab. A lamp was smashed, and some of the electric terminals had been jarred from their posts, but not a tire had been punctured, and the machine seemed as capable as ever of taking the road.
If the girl was curious as to the sudden disappearance and reappearance of the driver, she kept her curiosity to herself. When the driver had backed the machine into the road and headed it eastward, Matt turned to the girl.
“Rye is the place we are bound for?” he said tentatively.
She gave him a quick, troubled glance.
“Yes,” she answered.
Probably she was wondering whether he was intending to keep on with the journey.